February 1 to 14

Mad

When she was but a little child,

And only two feet high,

She clapped her hands and cried, ‘Shoo, Shoo!’

To make the small birds fly;

Till with her mouth as sweet as a bee’s,

Her laughter shook the old folk’s knees.

But no one laughs when this small child,

Grown to a women soon,

Claps her two hands and tries to shoo

Away the stars and moon;

As though one star should leave its place,

Even for her afflicted face.