Folk need a lot of loving in the morning;
The day is all before, with cares beset----
The cares we know, and they that give no warning;
For love is God’s own antidote for fret.

Folk need a heap of loving at the noontime----
In the battle lull, the moment snatched from strife----
Halfway between the waking and the croontime,
While bickering and worriment are rife.

Folk hunger so for loving at the nighttime,
When wearily they take them home to rest----
At slumber song and turning-out-the-light time----
Of all the times for loving, that’s the best.

Folk want a lot of loving every minute----
The sympathy of others and their smile!
‘Till life’s end, from the moment they begin it,
Folks need a lot of loving all the while!

Strickland Gillilan