I wrote a song once:

CONFESSION
– Sarah Atherton

Oh, I'm out to the garden on the first day of Spring,
Though it's still too chill to do much of anything.
But I pull a few weeds and my heart begins to sing:
You see, I just like to play in the dirt!
Oh, I get it on my fingers, on my face and on my knees;
And I might make some noise about planting green peas,
But we both know the truth and the truth won't hurt:
I just like to play in the dirt! (I do!)

Then the days grow warm and the sun shines down;
You'll find me out behind the house a-tilling up the ground.
It's me and the earthworms a-burrowing around –
You see, I just like to play in the dirt!
So I get it in me hair, on me ankles and me nose,
And I track it to the kitchen 'cause I wear it on my clothes;
I'm as fond as I can be of this dirty old shirt:
It's the one I wear to play in the dirt!

You put a blessing and a song over each and all the seed,
And God's good earth will give us what we need.
But how can you call it work when the Child inside is freed
To run about and play in the dirt?
Now you've got it on your elbows, on your neck and on your chin,
And you've smeared it o'er your mouth so I can hardly see your grin.
Ah, your face is now a glad disgrace, you muddy little flirt.
I knew you'd like to play in the dirt! (It washes off…)
C'mon, we'll go and play in the dirt!
The dirt! The dirt! (It's lovely stuff…)

Sarah (pouring over the catalogs)