Thursday, 18 April 2013

Poetry Thursday

I have revisited some old thought processes this week and a poem popped up. Enjoy!

Ode to a Toddler

Like a small goblin I find you squatting, unexpectedly, on the kitchen table
Chewing thoughtfully on a screwdriver .
Nothing new. A hundred times a day you find new ways to instill
Terror and make me fear you will be killed.
I wonder how it could have been that my mornings were peaceful, slow and sleepy
Now so manic; flustered and panicked,
Chaos never far from anywhere you are.
Eyes full of mischief, hands and mouth full of jam, or mud
Or worse – that scarlet welt welling such new blood.
No quiet. No respite. Never more will peace be mine.
My boobs no longer my own, nor my nights, nor my time.
Even the simple sanction of a shut bathroom door:
Denied me, or woe betide me!
Everything, now, is yours, forever more.
Mad professor hair, a gleam in your eye, a wicked giggle,
New delight after new delight; tiny bare toes, a soft tummy to tickle.
My life, never dull, never drear, Now you’re here.