Hours have been spent           in the market-place           of cold, hard decision.            Tears have fallen               onto the swollen ground            of maternal anguish.                                                              And now their painted faces                                          call to me from a lake full of suds -                                              "Look at me mummy!"                                          "An' look meeeeeee!!"                                      Their bodies glisten,                                              tiny archipelagos of glee.