October roses bloom against the whiteWall of the houseWhere the afternoon sun lingersWhere the brightness is reflectedEven on chilly morningsBuds stir and openCold rain drips from the leavesTill frost browns the pink edges Till a night's wind strews the fragile petalsAfter they have had their autumn day.

Nothing is more pleasing in a child's small hand,More precious than a treasure from a foreign land.,Than an oval chicken's egg found in the waving grass.White as snow, as fragile and as smooth as glass.

Toiling away at your work, Little sweet girlStirring and beating up something To eat girl.Measure the flour, the sugar, the meal,Add eggs, beat in butter and milk, Stir untilYour arms are weary, your muscles are tired,The batter so smooth makes flapjacks inspiredTo serve to your guests, your family, And friends.And brings out those smiles with the pleasure it sends.