Where has my little toddler gone?
I open the pantry door.
And there I see a chocolate face,
And pudding all over the floor.
A twinkle in his bright blue eyes,
The innonce of childhood.
He smiles at me through chocolate lips,
Looks up and says,"Mmmm, dood!"
I share the story with a friend,
She laughs and dries her eyes.
"They grow so fast, these little ones."
Then she gives me some good advice.
Be sure to write it down,
These are things you will want to share.
If you capture the image it won't get lost
And moments like these are rare.
Traveling through a mountain pass
I marvel at nature's scene.
A photo couldn't capture it all
But my notebook will tell where I've been.
My pencil is a paintbrush
With each word a vibrant hue.
To write is to paint a picture
Of all that is in my view.
On our way we stop for lunch,
I pause to write what I've seen.
A woman with silver bangles
And a caftan of neon lime green.
Her red hair is wrapped in a matching scarf,
Silver sandals wrap her feet.
She's a walking story that I must catch,
A character complete.
My husband watches my pencil fly
And he askes with eyebrows raised.
"You write about family and places we've been,
But why put that gal in a phrase?"
Suddenly the light comes on
And it couldn't be much brighter.
"I need to write this down," I say,
"Because I am a writer."