Within each intricacy
And delicacy
This shell's, this snow crystal's
This web's, as lovely
His thought process; first worked through;
Traced back now by you.
Playful child's, for a creator!
Toddled once Earth too!
Your tumbling forth was a joy.
None asked, then, you're a girl of a boy;
We never cried when you cried.
Rather, each one had a smile of pride.
You cried when you felt hungry.
You cried for all and sundry.
All you needed was everyone's care.
And of your every need, each one was aware.
You learned to smile too, but that was less.
The angels are blessing you; each did guess;
Did anyone ever feel upset
Though they found you often wet?
Each day, your mom and I eagerly counted,
Whether your growth was health-founded,
You started sitting straight without falling.
You fell to your face and rose while crawling.
When you gradually stood up and toddled,
And, very pleasantly falling swaddled,
For walking, you started finding your space.
In each step, we could find grace;
There was a celebration when you babbled.
How beautiful your toy horse you saddled!
We could find, yet annoyed and sad,
When, with your toys, someone else played
When with other children, you expressed your wrath,
We know all these are part of your growth.
All these happened, dear. Now you’ve started to school,
We still watch over your growth, though we look cool...
It was hours before dawn and I could not sleep.
The gloomy fog overpowered the cold dark street.
The street lights offered patches of misty light.
Rain had glossed the pavement, in the dead of night.
From my window I saw the publican escorting old Joe.
Put him out in the street, he closed the pub hours ago.
My yawning fogged the window as he toddled home.
Last of the rain flowed down the gutters leaving foam.
The eerie silence matched the cold dark grey scene.
A more lonely looking place, there had never been.
Scraps of paper and food wrappers were tumbling,
Pushed along by a breeze as I watched Joe stumbling.
He made it to his gate down the end of the road.
A truck carrying newspapers slung off its load,
Plastic wrapped and landed at the newsagent’s door.
I hoped to watch the deserted street, just a bit more.
To see the sunrise and it be busy with people galore.
Such a transformation was worth waiting for.
To see vehicles appear, all come alive in early morn.
But my bed called and I fell asleep before the dawn.
Where are you going? I wondered as they toddled by.
They were dressed in hippie costumes, and I wondered why.
They are heading to nineteen seventy, another said.
I loved this and kept it alive all day in my head.
If I was heading to the seventies, I would need a vee double you.
It would have to be sassy and girly, pink ought to do.
I would take my two besties and we would head toward the beach.
We would be playful and virginal, and stay out of everyone’s reach.
Once knew this old man named Gus
For some reason the girlies made a fuss
As he toddled along
Singing off-colour songs
Much too off-colour for us to discuss
The body has a different relationship
with space now.
Disrespectful of distance before,
it now moves with a new sobriety,
motion slowed by a deliberation
barely perceptible,
as if, with each step,
asking for admission into the space in front,
a little readier to recoil from air
fraught with unwelcome possibility
imagined by creeping frailty,
erstwhile swagger
replaced by a simmering, private anger,
shedding bits of remembered energy,
its age unlearning the freedom of coordination,
edging ever closer to
a reunion, across many decades,
with its former self,
the one who toddled forth with
the same caution,
just much more optimistic.
Hinged
I flew across the border, with my wings spread wide
Fear, tear and blood - was all I saw.
A little one of four
clenched her fist,
she held a flower her mother kissed.
There was anger in her eyes,
said she hated how her mother lies.
She hated how they have to hide - hide from them
I saw them - fighting - again.
A war that caused so much of pain!
There were screams -
of people dying, and of many new born crying.
Thunderous sounds of swords swinging in the air
cutting through peoples' neck, head and elsewhere.
With her clenched hands she toddled towards safety,
asking me to come.
I was disguised, and appeared glum.
The little girl was shot - right through her heart -
right in front of my motherly eyes.
I was impuissant, I could not even touch her.
I heavily watched her bite the dust.
I was hinged to my illusory grave on the battleground -
where now,
my little one will also be found.
I watched as you toddled, giggled and played
dancing around with the new friends you made
crying for plasters when you grazed your knee
my little angel- the whole world to me
as you grew older I saw something had changed
prayed you would ask for help before it was too late
now sorrow surrounds me as I kneel at your grave
my rescue too late you did not want to be saved
tears that I shed and asking God why-
you never reached out- why you wanted to die
photo's fading of your smile long ago
weeds overgrow on your grave- yes, I know
its too hard to sit there and remember the way
you used to toddle and giggle and play
one day I will join you in heaven above
until then angel I hold onto your love
May God in His wisdom forgive man his sins
In this City of drugs where evil wins.
The most loveliest flower in the garden of God's creation..
True to how she is portrayed ...an embodiment of pure love
A living angel whose affection never knew any bounds ..
Words can't define your sacrifices &the world never forgets your everlasting preaches ..
To the greatest of greatest Pinnacles I may reach ,I know I 'll find this soul with its Happiest tears ..
From the day I toddled to the days to come ..I owe a lot to this endless support system..
Valour in your heart & your determined spirits not just makes you beautiful but you are dangerously beautiful my sweetum ..
A one hundred thousand years may fade away ..your love alone shall glow with all the beauty of the brightest gem ! ??
-dedicated to all mothers??
I looked out of the window what did I see
A beautiful rainbow shining there for me
Remembering the story mam read last night
Will have to go outside, sure it will be alright
If I borrow the brolly with red spots on show
My sister is asleep, she will never know.
I crept out of the door hoping it didn’t creak,
toddled to the garden bench, where I play hide and seek.
Scrambled upon the seat was no easy feat,
with my short legs and tiny feet.
Umbrella over my head I jiggled with glee
to see the rainbow in front of me.
Mam read that Mr Grumpy would send the rain
I hope he cheers up so sun shines again.
Am wondering, if I called his name, he just might
Let Mr Sunshine put things right
Can’t believe my eyes, so surprised to see
all the care bears waving to me.
The little umbrella didn’t keep me so dry,
I am soaking wet but I won’t cry.
At bedtime now, will listen with glee,
next time mam reads to me.
Mam’s stories are really true
Hope you enjoyed this one too
Penned 23 September 2017
Contest: Eve Roper. Red Polka Dot Umbrella.
she brought the animal up to look at it more closely
that is when we heard a blood curdling shriek
“it peed on me” she repeated between screams and the
fwog went flying into the grass. mr. frog was not injured
but it appeared, to me that he was very indignant.
dark curls tumbling over her little head
tears streaming Michele ran or toddled to momma
looking for solace. I over heard momma say
“don’t rub your eyes it will sting”.
I turned away as a grin spread across my face;
that will teach her I thought.
home safe
still here awake, waiting.
sleep evades me
I write to you,
so quiet and dark
a summer peace has grown
around the house
Joey sleeps deeply in his bed
I write small homey things,
all grand notions long since
toddled off to bed.
soon the sun will rise
above the forest.
in kingly fashion, it will glide
over its devotees bowing
smiling at the pagan gratitude
for its return.
every moment is created
of love for you
I sit here and mould it into words
as a potter uses clay.
if I were, if I were…
dreams that are woven into
wishes that will one
day come true.
good night dearest.
Mum and dad were not happy -
What was the reason for all this fuss?
I toddled off into the garden to see them
They were looking very curious
The evidence was plain for all to see
Just one solitary little footprint on the new concrete path
Mum asked was it made by me
Oh no mum it wasn’t me…
but I know who did it …
It was pussy wearing daddy’s old boots
My parents both began to laugh
To this day that footprint remains on the path
(I have to hold up my hands and finally confess… is a true story)
Contest Tall tales in short form sponsored by Casarah Nance
05~05~16
Child’s Play
Perhaps we should let the children lead.
Two mothers sat on a bench
speaking in an unusual tongue,
one sat alone scanning her cell phone,
a Dad pretended to teach his daughter to fish,
grandparents toddled after a toddler.
The children did what children do
follow the sound of children’s voices,
gravitate to the excited playfulness,
see only other children – playing,
slowly slip into the wonder of the moment.
No ceremonious introductions necessary
another voice added to the jubilation,
another set of dancing footsteps
racing for the slide, sliding to the ground
laughing in the joy of spring warmth.
The parents watched the children
the children touched their hearts
left the parents thinking…
Perhaps we should let the children lead.
John G. Lawless
I clapped eyes on some jimjams
at me local Marks and Sparks,
but strapped for readies,
I couldn't buy them
and had to treat it as a lark.
It was a shame,
for they were prezzies.
(I do like Marks and Sparks...)
I looked around at bits and bobs,
then toddled to the park.
-------------------------------------
U.K. Slang, including "me"
7/2/2015
Contest - Colloquialisms
Sponsor - Laura Leiser
4th place win
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