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Poem

Orange paisley ideas tinged with turquoise and silver resonate in my head.
I wake up thinking seventeen thoughts, diving in sixteen directions.
Trixie, my muse has thrown the last line of the best poem my way.
I run to my art studio and begin to sketch, erase, glitter and paint.

The day is exciting, I have children to entice, excite, thrill and stir up.
Other teachers act like they like it, and maybe some do. I don’t care.
I am an elementary counselor, not ready to retire any time soon.
The students cheer when they see me, when I enter their room.

I get a kick out of the weather – sunny, warm, freezing or cinnamon.
Each season has a reason, and I get enthusiastic about something.
Retaining my childlike spirit has helped me generate the best friends.
Being with my ten grandchildren gives me job abundant.

So what keeps me going? It’ not a what. It is a bunch of who’s.
My husband for example, who reads my poetry every single day.
He has been around since we were fifteen, my cheerleader too. 
My children who send the grandchildren my way,

Sophie Helen and my cat Shark, the mighty killer give me reasons to laugh. 
My days are full of scrabble games, paintings, drawings, cartooning.
I made a list poem yesterday with my fourth graders, and they were amazed.
I keep going because I am enthusiastic about something every single day.

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