Frost bites… Ahhh

Children are one of the greatest joys in Life. I’m Grateful for my friend who teaches Art to our children and for those who make the Arts possible.  I love what the children have created here. Their imagination inspires me toward thinking and creativity. 

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Frost bytes

Inside the lab the children tap home row, but think of Winter

Inside her paper grading mind she sees

A D H  D    A D H D……and know they need to MOVE!

Outside, between the mini-blinds they long to go.

The Snowflakes play and dance and jump

like frosty aphids

Cloud jumpers want to land on children’s chocolate rainbow faces

I close my teacher eyes to tests and schedules

and vow to try to be….. more better

and like my fledglings, just let GO.

And so, I open wide my child eyes

to innocent discovery

to fly

to magic and believing

to making fun the tasty freeeeeeeze

to loving every icy thing

above, below and all around me.

***That day we caught two, three…… or ten bazillion crystals.

Sublime time crystals snagged from space before the bell rang

before we went inside the lines to rows and orders

***Right there and then

outside in real-life child time

I blinked and pinked and peeked

a sea of children trying to climb the sky

***They caught a cache of long-lashed loot

with wet pink wrinkled platted tongues to boot

They worked the work of clomping scattering snow shoes

cocked back, wide gapped, their toothless little mouths

refused to close

Again, again, they hurled a never ending spray of joyous celebration

the happy song, a child’s quest of romping salutation

a freedom called to play  that comes so easily to youth

a slip and slide of slush and shovels from January through February

of winking sloppy snowflake melt on everyone

and ice sickle sword play.

***I gazed and coveted

and so I caught for me a clear blueberry sky

atop the frozen flagpole field of stars on high

I sighed and tasted beauty on my taffy tongue-pull

and savored long and well that sweet sleet drip

*** I scanned to spy a hundred button noses cocked,

tipped confident to trusting, far from Winter’s cutting edge

a hundred open bird chirp mouths intent on feeding

a hundred rosy cheeks all zipped and scarfed, and willing

a hundred homespun, bought, some thrown, without a thought

for soggy shirts and sweaters.

Torn, blown and flying.  Heaped high in coat banks deep and dying.

A wondrous wave of woven woolen mittens burst again, hands raised

all vying for the blessed soft serve.  The sweet friends,

a mess of mewing kittens lapping milk

spilt soft upon the silky white of morning

one     two      three     four….more….the frosty excess

five fingering a Jan Brett mittened recess

upon the tongues of children, snowflakes flying without end,

then just as fast

gone gone to never-lasting

drip

drip

skin

 

and sun-baked

 

Then back for more galore!

 

***It’s days like these

I love to be.

It’s times like these

I don my eagle wings and breath,

immune to fixed, inflexible, and grown up thinks

It’s times like these I thank my God.

I raise my face to Winter Sun and muddy buddy dogs

and set my tongue

to seeking

frost bites

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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