So God Sent An Ant

 An ant carried a popcorn piece 

('twas much bigger than he),

and as I watched I got release 

from what had troubled me,

the thought that aspirations 

had now outstripped my strength,

that these miscalculations 

could not endure at length.

But the ant went out the door 

to cross the vasty yard,

telling me I could do more

although it might be hard

while singing that old glad refrain

that nourished High Hopes in my brain.

And, of course, the song, courtesy Frank Sinatra.

Sylvia has high hopes for more ice cream.