Natures Touch

 In kindergarten classed
 Dislike they knew;
And as the years went past
 It grew and grew;
Until in maidenhood
 Each sought a mate,
Then venom in their mood
 Was almost hate.


The lure of love they learned
 And they were wed;
Yet when they met each turned
 Away a head;
Each went her waspish way
 With muted damns--
Until they met one day
 With baby prams.


Then lo! Away was swept
 The scorn of years;
Hands clasped they almost wept
 With gentle tears.

Forgetting hateful days,
 All mother mild,
Each took with tender praise
 The other's child.


And now they talk of milk,
 Of diapers and such;
Of baby bosoms silk
 And tender to the touch.

A gemlike girl and boy,--
 With hope unsaid,
Each thinks with mother joy:
 'May these two wed!'

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