Well, I see the "Mediocrity for Mom!" campaign is in full swing. I swan, If Keats, Yeats, Dylan Thomas and Bily the Shake all showed up and posted here in their very best style, you two would ignore it and find something by Edgar Guest or Aloysius Tabernacle Drone.

"It Takes A Heap of Livin...


It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything...."