Archive for category Poetry
wonder and light
it’s in every wide-eyed stare
that seems to light up
his whole face
while softening mine
it’s in the way he views lights
sweetly breathing the word,
“wowwwwwww”
my heart stops for a moment
it’s in the excited, rising
pitch in his voice as he says
“Santa” and “Cwissmas”
that puts a twinkle in my eyes
it’s in his sincere concern
when he asks me with
worry stitched across his face
“Am naughty, Santa bwing no pwesents?”
i have to stifle a laugh
it’s in the mirth with which he replies
“That’s wight! If I good, Santa bwings
pwesents! on CWISSMASSSS!”
when i remind him there’s still
hope
i love him no matter how naughty he is
it’s in the way i can feel the joy
as he does because he
reminds me how to
i have a reason to let go and smile
he runs the years back
on my rusty clock
just by being himself
the ultimate gift in life
he is wonder and light
and i am grateful.
boundless
Posted by Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom in My Son, Parenting, Poetry on December 4, 2009
you are small in stature
with a giant personality
your size never stops you
from expecting the most
and after all, tiny is
only temporary
(much to my dismay)
your are revving and racing
through days and months and years
every day that finds you
meets its match
there is no morning
afternoon or evening
that you can’t climb
and leap from
into the starry sky you soar
landing in your bed
with a soft thump and giggles
that don’t want to go night-night
even though your small body
is tired and weary
from all the battles you won today.
The rhythm of our lives.
Posted by Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom in Husband, Poetry, Relationships on November 20, 2009
He shifts his weight
And moves on
From miles away
He says he loves me
I say it back
Then he moves on
It’s quiet at night
So much emptiness to fill
With nothing
For a spell
He returns
I stand in the kitchen
Like a cliche
I balance on heels, making dinner
Laughter floats in waves
Through the house
Echoing off the walls
Like bouncing balloons
It swells and ebbs
It rolls back and forth
Like tickle fights
There’s football on TV
My feet find comfort
His hands find my back
Our bed is warm again, briefly
Then he shifts his weight
Says he loves me
And moves on again
Takes his music and goes
Alone, in the quiet night
I can remember the melody
And hum it myself
We stay behind
Hold it down
Occupy our time
Here and there
We shift
and wait.
it’s ok to get wet. really.
Posted by Lotus, aka Sarcastic Mom in Happiness, Poetry on September 18, 2009
it is funny how
people look at you oddly
standing in the rain
if you don’t hurry
because you’re just enjoying
the water falling.
if you do not have
a worried look on your face
or an umbrella
they will slow down and
stare at you as if to say,
“what is wrong with you?”
i just smile back and
step in another puddle
as they hurry on.
mud squishes between
my wet toes and the edges of
my mouth lift right up.
i’ll pick another
glistening flower and my
jeans will get darker.
eventually
soggy footprints lead a path
back to my doorstep.
people will still drive
by, dry, inside their warm cars.
my smile is warmer.
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Yeah, I know, lists/ugh. I've always been bad at accepting compliments, and this is no different. I was surprised and honored by this - someone thinks I've done a good job. Icky Listness aside, that makes me smile. :-)lotus works
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