And then she placed her rainbow broom

With colors across the spectrum

Leaned it against the kitchen chair

As her face grew very solemn



"Wash away the grime!" she says

Grasping the dripping mop

Soft and hard, wet and dry

She coats every exposed spot



Her face while working, 'tis so solemn

Watching the colored bristles drown

In soft and hard, wet and dry

And slowly but surely go brown



Soft and hard, wet and dry

Yet the children do not cry



They know how to laugh and play

Even when the sun's away