Succor me in surprised joy.

I rise without an ache du jour,

All parts accounted for and none too sore –

Oh that this would happen more!

–

Play for me fortissimo joy.

Ella is perching on my knees,

She laughs and shrieks and beats the piano keys,

An Etude Brute, if you please.

–

Wrap me up in furry joy.

I’m watching Max roll in the dew

With glee he dives anew, his tongue askew.

(He’s covered in grass – mow power to him! – which

Doesn’t scan, but what can you do?)