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Sometimes we let a little thing
No larger than a midge's wing
Destroy a whole day's happiness.
We give it leeway, more or less,
And let it buzz and nip and sting,
Till one gets cross, and two get mad,
And three or four are hurt and sad.
And then, next day, on looking back,
We spy the microscopic beast.
Alas, alack!
Was that what started all the fuss?
That mite? We should have thought at least
It was a hippopotamus!
This poem is in the public domain.
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Nancy Byrd Turner (1880 - 1971) was born in Virginia. A descendant of both Thomas Jefferson and Pocohantas, Nancy began writing poetry as a child. She studied to become a teacher, and did teach for a few years, but eventually she became a magazine editor. During the course of her career, she published 15 books, several songs, and her work appeared regularly in the leading magazines of her day. Late in her life, Nancy became a freelance writer and a popular lecturer.
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Larry Schug:
Don't sweat the small stuff.
Posted 10/16/2023 08:16 AM
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Dorcas:
Truth, so subtle and yet profound. Thanks
Posted 03/26/2013 08:09 AM
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CamilleBalla:
And it effected a poem! How wonderful that we all can learn from this.
Posted 03/22/2013 10:07 AM
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tannerlynne:
Oh yes!
Posted 03/22/2013 08:18 AM
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Wilda Morris:
Yep. Been there, done that, unfortunately.
Posted 03/22/2013 07:35 AM
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erinsnana:
Love it!
Posted 03/22/2013 07:00 AM
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Katrina:
Yes - I identify with this and smile reluctantly.
Posted 03/22/2013 04:16 AM
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