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Created on: April 07, 2011 Last Updated: April 08, 2011
"Good morning", she said
with an angelic voice.
"Good morning my dear", I replied.
"Mommy get up!
I've made us a feast."
She said, as she ran out the door.
I threw back the covers-
jumped out of bed,
then went to see what she'd done.
There on the table and even the floor
~a fine mess~ made by this child who's four.
I looked at her face;
the question was there,
trouble or sweet reward?
Hugging her neck, at the table I sat,
this fine mess could wait a bit more.
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Poetry: A fine mess
"Good morning", she said
with an angelic voice.
"Good morning my dear", I replied.
"Mommy get up!
I've made us a feast."
She
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