In a short fit of organizing my studio I found this darling poem in with some notes from Jean Grastorf. I just had to share it on my blog this morning.
She learned to paint on Monday,
Her strokes were going fine.
She forgot to thaw our dinner,
So we went out to dine.
She painted trees on Tuesday
She says they are a must.
They really were quite lovely,
But she forgot to dust.
On Wednesday it was daisies,
She says they're really fun.
What lights! What darks!
But the laundry wasn't done.
Her apples were on Thursday,
So juicy, bright and red.
I guess she really was engrossed;
She never nade the bed.
It was violets on Friday
In colors she adores.
It never bothered her at all,
The crumbs on all the floors.
I found a maid on Saturday,
My week is now complete.
My wife can paint the hours away,
The house will still be neat.
Well, it's already Sunday,
But don't call me a saint.
I cursed "!*! I raved, "#!!! I ranted*%##!!!!
The maid has learned to paint!
Anonymous