My Little ManA Poem by Lena M. P.Dedicated to my grandson KeatonI watch him race into the yard, On pudgy legs he swaggers onward, To wander through the garden paths, Adventure seeking is his sport. He hides beneath the willow tree, A branch for sword he battles forth. Then takes a wound and falls to earth, Hand clutching heart he dies so brave. Up he jumps and runs to hide, Amongst my Roma’s and Mountain Prides A sheepish grin of bounty red, Drips down his chin and stains his hands. Mouth to sleeve and hands to pants Then off he runs to chase a squirrel. He spots the sprinkler in the back Like moth to flame, to water lured. A jump, a slash and slide through mud, A squeal, a laugh, another jump. Mud puddles made for sticky pies, Or castles built with sticks and leaves. Wet from head to toe he stands With hands on hips he stalks his prey Then suddenly through twinkling eyes He detects me in my suit of white! © 2010 Lena M. P.Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
424 Views
7 Reviews Added on February 17, 2010 Last Updated on February 17, 2010 AuthorLena M. P.DeSoto, TXAboutMy book is out! Come see at Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G1AVYCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awd_d_OcXAsb0E3DBV0 One of my short stories was published in this new fabulous international magazine cal.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|