The spring thaw has come - and the ground
is all wet;
The mud oozes up everywhere,
Two rollicking boys and a young woolly pup
Track in mud, ‘till I’m quite in despair.
Just a dash for a drink, or the archery set,
Or the marbles cached in the buffet;
And dirt paths zig-zag through the house I’ve
just cleaned;
And helpless, I’m filled with dismay.
But hark! weary mother! The years are not long
'till those boisterous feet will gain poise,
And tread, all love-laden, to some other door;
Then, what of the mud? and the Boys?
Ah, come in, my laddies, and don’t mind the
tracks,
My broom and mop-handle are light;
And so is my heart - for we’ve got you safe
home.
Let me tuck you in snug for the night.