Thursday, April 17, 2008

Poetry

This morning during the usual rush to get out the door, Kidlet pointed to a book that I had sitting in her room. I told her it was a book of poetry.

"What's poetry, Mama?"

I opened the book and read a brief poem about sleeping under the pines and on the boulders and how a calendar was no longer necessary because they were living in the moment, at peace. I explained it to her as best I could.

"I've got a poem for you, Mama, 'I love you'."

That's a good one.

4 comments:

Dominique said...

It's the best poetry ever...

raining sheep said...

...and no matter how big your wee ones get, those words are always poetry to a mommy's ears.

tifanie said...

that's beauuuutiful. made me smile in my heart real big.

pricklypearbloom said...

awwwwwwww