Coming into the front yard
at the sound of a tiny voice
thinking she had seen our cats
in the window of the house
But it was her tiny fingers
running to the flowering plants
her little hands drinking the smells
waving toward herself
bringing the scents to her face
Smiling and cooing
giggle as she ran from plant to plant
the magic word of pick,
a yellow iris for her mom
May 26, 2010
Suncook, NH
Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010. Contact me at Ray Foss
for usage.
(Raymond A. Foss)
More Poetry from Raymond A. Foss:
Raymond A. Foss Poems based on Topics: Mothers- Hearing their whispers (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
- Hearing the martyrs, the heroes (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
- Awkward Seasons (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
- Sow Peace (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
- Live Peaceably (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
- Listening to their grief (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Mothers PoemsBased on Keywords: iris, cats, cooing, giggle