Small pleasures are kind, so very giving
for when toil erodes and drudgery wears,
I may pause and find the joy of living
in the warmth of hearth, an obliging chair.
A short respite satisfies, brings me cheer
as embers tend to each crumpled toe,
and I stretch a thought as the cat draws near,
No demands it makes and its purr is low.
Soon, I will remove each trace of cinder
from the grate , then into ash I will wade,
but folly delays and daydreams hinder
the obligations of a proper maid.
Still, best this free life, however sooty,
then the gilded bondage of my lady.