Salad Days!!

Do you recall W. B. Yeat's poem to his daughter--and its glorious bongo-beat of a line?

.....It's certain that fine women eat / A crazy salad with their meat....

.........................................................................

Then dig this, daddio and mommio.

Stanza 3 from E. St. V. Millay's cool poem:

PORTRAIT BY A NEIGHBOR

Before she has her floor swept
Or her dishes done,
Any day you’ll find her
A-sunning in the sun!

It’s long after midnight
Her key’s in the lock,
And you never see her chimney smoke
Till past ten o’clock!

She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon,

She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream,
She forgets she borrowed butter
And pays you back cream!

Her lawn looks like a meadow,
And if she mows the place
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne’s lace!