Poetry Wednesday: a hobbling start...

I scoured my poetry books for a favorite to initiate my entrance into this Poetry Wednesday circle. My children had been absently tucked into bed, shuffled off to read and fall asleep. And I settled myself into a comfy place to consider this post. I won't attempt a lengthy prose tonight. I am tired and stillness seems more fitting at this moment. But I will suffice to say that two sets of little girl feet incessently made their way down the steps steeling into my quiet space for their typical delay schemes. Waining patience was the theme of our discourse. And admittedly, I did not feel quite as set on high and lofty poetry after sending my girls off with short words and tears to wet their pillows. We are all in need of a fresh start, a new morning.

Tonight I'll share again a poem written by my daughter, Sophie, on a night similar to this one.

My Mother

My mother puts me
in her warm hands
and I smile.
I love her
more than the world.

She is the one
with the warm smile
always on her face.

She is the one
to smile deeply
until you
smile deeply too.

I hug her
and she hugs me back.
I feel as if
there was magic
in the air,
and there is;
it is the magic
of love

Sophia, age 8



Here's to teacher as student, mother as child. And tender, returning hearts.

Poetry Wednesday