Silly Girls

I was already awake when Ice Princess woke up this morning. She cuddled up next to and placed her soft cheek on my arm.
"I had a wonderful dream last night, mom." she said in a sleepy voice.
"Oh yeah? What was it about?" I asked her, running my fingers through her golden hair.
"I dreamt that in the future there won't be any kids that will have to go to school."
"I wonder how different our world would be?" I asked her, wondering what she had pictured.
"Everyone would be happy, like me." she she with a wide grin.

Later at the table my girls broke out in a sort of singing rhyme. Just to let you know Link is a main character on a video game called Zelda.
Here is a picture of him.

I know the drink.
It is never pink.
The favorite of Link.
It is a drink.
From the elusive mink.
Yes, he loves this drink.
A powerful drink.
Milk of the mink.
What do you think?
It will make you wink.
And even blink.
Link's best drink.
Of the elusive mink.
They were saying this over and over. Giggling. Changing the lines. Creating new ones. And it was all spontaneous, and composed by my little girls. I was laughing they were laughing. I love my silly, silly girls.

Zebra Question

I asked the zebra,
Are you black with white stripes?
Or white with black stripes?
And the zebra asked me,
Are you good with bad habits?
Or bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times?
Or are you quiet with noisy times?
Are you happy with some sad days?
Or are you sad with some happy days?
Are you neat with some sloppy ways?
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways?
And on and on and on and on
And on and on he went.
I'll never ask a zebra
About stripes
Again.

Shel Silverstein

The Seed

On a day like today,

no colder than this,

a slight breeze came blowing,

and with it a small, innocent,

seed came flowing.

Over the tall pine trees,

that covered the summit,

drifting by a swift flowing brook,

this is the path that the tiny,

seed took.

There it settled,

in the warm, moist earth,

just like every seed knows,

it will use this rich soil,

as the seed grows.

The sky then covered,

by dense gray clouds,

plump drops fell and as they pressed,

this seed was buried further,

before it came to rest.

Now who will tell,

who will be the one,

to teach this new little seed,

how to grow big and strong,

and keep it from becoming a weed.

Now day turned to night,

and weeks into months,

but no one filled this big task,

no rules were laid down,

I know I did ask.

It was left all alone,

with no textbooks to study,

so do I dare go and see,

should I take a look at what

this helpless seed became to be?

Over the hill I did climb,

through the deep forest pine,

and along that rushing brook,

I sought out that little seed,

following the path that it took.

Finally I arrived,

to my great delight,

it was not an ugly weed that I found,

but a lovely yellow wildflower,

planted firmly in the soft ground.

Sydney

Gone the day, with my arms full.

Soft, warm, cherry lips.

Peering over handmade blankets.

With apple cheeks and slate eyes.

Drifting lavender and powder.



Gone the morning, not quite awake.

Her back against my breast.

Shallow breath, white t-shirt.

Her crown snug under my chin.

Golden rays begin to break in.



Gone the afternoon, gazing down.

Watching contented, giving life.

Perfect rocking in time to every breath.

Tiny feet lost in my palm.

Minutes that last forever.



Gone the nights, pained.

Reaching in her barred trundle.

Dancing with her this midnight dance.

Desperate to ebb the strike on my ears.

Attempting to barter with patting and bouncing.



Here is the moment, radiant.

Healthy, biting in to life.

A delicious ripe melon, juicy and sweet.

Sweeping electricity and water.

The best has just begun.