From the mouths of babes

Plastic dolls

My daughter’s dolls have got no clothes
I’m trying not to freak
And when I ask her why
She smiles
and makes the wretches speak

I do not like the clothes I have
They really ain’t for me
OK I say to placate her (them?)
Yet she continues this ventriloquy

It’s all the pink and gold she pines
I don’t like it never have
It’s what they sell in the shops I share
Well they should sell more choice – she says – Daaaaad!

 

Today

Love it: ‘cause you know it won’t last.
Live it: ‘cause yesterdays are best.
Last it: Be the one who’s happiest.

March on
Be strong
Recall where you went so wrong.
Be bold
Be joy
And true to every girl and boy.

’cause we’re all still kids
when the chips are down
and need a lift when
brows carry old frowns.

Moon through Sycamore blossom

The Tales of Fires Life

You were the débutante;
you were the flyer!
The one with the dream to be –
The child to reach higher.

You always knew it:
Your effortless charm.
A cherished companion –
the blaze on my arm!

I felt you glowing –
the heat of your soul.
I thought you were growing,
yet doubted you’d go.

Imbibing this anodyne,
I was Earth wire, while
thru tricks; thru entrancement,
you mastered the fire.

I staid your energy:
Was I the downer?
When you danced searingly
were I your drowner?

Always you knew the truth.
Always you’ll know me.
I found a route to you
and died directly!Night fire