Shut-Ins

We're gittin’ so we need again

To see the sproutin’ seed again.

We've been shut up all winter long

Within our narrow rooms;

We're sort o’ shriveled up an’ dry —

Ma's cranky-like an’ quick to cry;

We need the blue skies overhead,

The garden with its blooms.

I'm findin’ fault with this an’ that!

I threw my bootjack at the cat

Because he rubbed against my leg —

I guess I'm all on edge;

I'm fidgety an’ fussy too,

An’ Ma finds fault with all I do;

It seems we need to see again

The green upon the hedge.

We've been shut up so long, it seems

We've lost the glamour of our dreams.

We've narrowed down as people will

Till fault is all we see.

We need to stretch our souls in air

Where there is room enough to spare;

We need the sight o’ something green

On every shrub an’ tree.

But soon our petulance will pass —

Our feet will tread the dew-kissed grass;

Our souls will break their narrow cells,

An’ swell with love once more.

And with the blue skies overhead,

The harsh an’ hasty words we've said

Will vanish with the snow an’ ice,

When spring unlocks the door.

The sun will make us sweet again

With blossoms at our feet again;

We'll wander, arm in arm, the ways

Where beauty reigns supreme.

An’ Ma an’ I shall smile again,

An’ be ourselves awhile again,

An’ claim, like prisoners set free,

The charm of every dream.