Hoidays are very well
But like all else they have to end,
And we must leave their magic spell-
We slaves of life and condesend
to once more bend our sun-burned backs,
To honest labour, sweat and toil.
The miner and the steeple-jack,
The builder, those who tend the soil.
And commit to memory moments dear,
And plan for another one next year.
archie langford
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holidays-4/
