Our Sonny’s day was rather bleak;
He wouldn’t smile; he’d scarcely speak.
Our mighty efforts left him cold:
That special story he was told;
The visit of his Uncle Jim
(He’ s always thought the world of him);
The pictures that his mother drew;
What father made with shears and glue-
But he cheered up in time for bed:
Sis just painted his toe-nails red!
by Ray Romine Thursday, August 31, 1950
