More about Phyllis McGinley
Phyllis McGinley -
A pocketful of wry (1940)
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Sons do not need you.
They're always out of your reach;
Walking strange waters.
Oh, princes thrive on caviar, the poor on whey and curds,
And politicians, I infer, must eat their windy words.
It's crusts that feed the virtuous, it's cake that comforts sinners,
But writers live on bread and praise at Literary Dinners.
Ah, snug lie those that slumber
Beneath Conviction's roof.
Their floors are sturdy lumber,
Their windows, weatherproof.
But I sleep cold forever
And cold sleep all my kind,
Born nakedly to shiver
In the draft from an open mind.
Shunning the upstart shower,
The cold and cursory scrub,
I celebrate the power
That lies within the Tub.
Let others, worn with living
And living's aftermath,
Take Sleep to heal the heart's distress,
Take Love to be their comfortress,
Take Song or Food or Fancy Dress,
But I shall take a Bath.
How happy is the Optimist
To whom life shows its sunny side
His horse may lose, his ship may list,
But he always sees the funny side.
No candidate too pallid,
No issue too remote,
But it can snare
To analyze our vote.
Quote of the day
There are worse words than cuss-words, there are words that hurt.
March 21, 1905
February 22, 1978
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