Friday….and feelin’ groovy

What a week
Here now gone
Dressed like the other ants and
It’s tie-dye Friday.
Singing to songs
That swirl in my brain,
Changing the words
To suit my mood
(Something my family can attest to as I have done it since I was a wee tot)
And in a comment,
Receiving blooms,
Laughter is always
The kindest gift of all
When needed most.
Feeling fun
Counting down,
A young ‘un to come this afternoon
Stay for a few nights,
Eat pizza and play….so
What does one do exactly with a six year old?
No kids of my own,
Tea party, nope, not gonna happen-
Telling the hubs
Wax on
Wax off
We can pay her to wax the truck
‘Cause I don’t wanna!!!
Laughing of course,
I would never think to let her do that….
Or would I (she thinks with an evil laugh)…
Ok, scrap that idea.
Bonfire and s’mores and
Pond swimmy on deck,
Arts and crafts
Spray paint will be fun and
Not inhaled!!!!!
Sparkly and glue,
Yes, that’s what we shall do,
Oh my
I hope the pups survive,
‘Cause it won’t be so nice
Scooping the presents and finding
Diamond glints in the remnants
Of yesterday.
I pray I survive
To make It through another day,
But if I call in dead Monday ,
We shall blame in on youth running
Their elders into the ground.

Pic: shirt selfie
Thoughts on babysitting a 6 year old all weekend.

Lost baubles

Princess charm
Bottles misted with dew
Hangs on roadside sign,
Who is the princess
Who lost her pretty bauble,
Sitting waiting
To be claimed
By tiny hands
That cherish.
Did the princess cry
Upon discovering
The absence
Of precious jewels,
Were they tossed carelessly,
Cruelly by the witches hand?
Or just tossed to the admirers
Of the tiny one
By her fingers?
Tiny princess baubles
Passed daily
Going nowhere,
Waiting at the road side
Lost and found.

A little different

Shelves of words
Bound leather
Slight smell of mildew
Worn well
By hands seeking
No teen books,
No fantasy,
No cartoons,
But philosophy
Native spirit,
And the books of scholars,
Boring to most,
A feast for my young mind
I saw things there
I heard the words speaking to me
Just for me,
A call to open the mind,
To be fulfilled
By the history of those like me,
Like a round plug in a square hole,
When not fitting in brought tears,
But as I grew older
Realization brought the truth to my mind
And I am glad of the difference
As it has made me
The being I am
And I am content
With this truth of life.
To dare to be different,
To bloom in this universe.