Aunts are discreet, a little shy / By instinct. They forbear to pry.

I'm a middle-bracket person with a middle-bracket spouse / And we live together gaily in a middle-bracket house. / We've a fair-to-middlin' family; we take the middle view; / So we're manna sent from heaven to internal revenue.

In Australia, not reading poetry is the national pastime.

I have read that during the process of canonization the Catholic Church demands proof of joy in the candidate, and although I have not been able to track down chapter and verse I like the suggestion that dourness is not a sacred attribute.

Ladies with curly hair / Have time to spare.

A mother's hardest to forgive. Life is the fruit she longs to hand you Ripe on a plate. And while you live, Relentlessly she understands you.

Praise is warming and desirable. But it is an earned thing. It has to be deserved, like a hug from a child.