Nanny's Chore Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Falls with full force
on all fours.
Crawls on the floor,
muddy paws.
Calls from the door,
sobbing sore.
Clad in small drawers,
cries out for more,
and more, and more,
poor Nanny's chore!

How can one draw
order calls
for sense, though sore
adult bawls:
'can't take no more! '
and recalls
rules youth knew, or
behind mind's shawls
from memory's store
prints out before
all patience stalls.

What are rules core
whose wherewithal
can calm restore
without angst? Thaw
through love's pure thrall
helps both withdraw
from crisis caw.
Rules shan't as chore
be seen, enthrall
as two adore
life's common law
avoiding brawl,
turmoil ignore.