I Write Too

High ho! High ho! What a wonderful beautiful day The birds are tweeting, squirrels are chittering. The sky is glistening with faeries and poppers Streams of happy sunlight beams disarm faeries Compelling monarchs to light on my marigolds. Nothing can take my fire; I am ready to write THE poem. I have a new purple notebook and smooth roller ball pen. “YOO HOO!” Oh, man! Mrs. McGilly has something to say. Could be an all-day thing. I pretend I cannot hear her, until we are touching noses. What are you doing? Writing. I write! You do? She runs home for her baby books to prove it. Returns with two friends. They have brought a little picnic. You shouldn’t have! There are two sentences on the page. They were not brilliant, instead hurried. I try to escape into my house where I maybe could write something. But my sons-in-law drop by looking for an apple pie or a cheesecake. So I feel compelled to make them. By three p.m. I am sitting on the toilet with my notebook rapidly writing down two more sentences. “Hey, Mom!” are you okay in there? My three daughters have come for supper bringing my six grandchildren. Maybe tomorrow I think.