The Khan's Canticles 23

Spring or autumn, never whine,

For your own good name.
Sometimes she '11 be cross and cold,
Never mind, she 's good as gold
Let her have her little scold

And kiss her just the same.

When there 's something wrong with baby

Kiss her ev'ry day,
'Twill help to sooth her worry, may be

Kiss her ev'ry day.
Kiss her when her soul is sad,
Kiss her when her heart is glad ;
Be your fortune good or bad,

Kiss her every day.

poem by Robert Kirkland Kernighan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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