Free soaring, anchored flight;
Tied to a tail of whimsical joy.
Willing servant to the wind,
To cares, an effective decoy.
Unaware of her rapid pace,
And frequently peering behind.
Glimpsing a sun-filtered silhouette,
Loosening string; a magical climb.
What memories will future years bring,
Of the once exuberant child?
Who flew red kites in the sand,
And inspired smiles with her smiles.
Grasping tight to soaring gem,
Which flitters as if trying to break free.
Connected by a cloth chain,
And a little girls’ dream…
It seemed so much higher,
When I was a kid.
Limbs lower to the ground.
Within it’s leaves I hid.
I could touch the clouds.
The world seemed small below.
Embracing companion branches,
Which promised to not let me go.
It seemed so much higher.
Guess it always was to me.
From my childlike perspective,
It is still the perfect tree.
This poem is for my Niece, Vivian Lee. Flamingos have been her favorite animal since she was three. She still adores them, and she turns 7 in May! Enjoy!
Vivian wants a pet flamingo
Who’ll live in her back yard
And wade around in her kiddie pool
Which, for a kid’s pool, is quite large
She will name her flamingo Sally
One of her very favorite names
She’ll put bows in her feathers
And they’ll play dress up games
Sally’s toe nails will be painted like rainbows
She will sparkle in the sun
One leg up, standing proud
Floppy hat and sunglasses on
Every day Vivian will feed her
Special order crustacean yum yums
So the beautiful pink she adores
Will stay bright, and Sally will stay strong
Her mom says maybe next year
She said the same the year before
But Vivian hasn’t given up
Sally the Flamingo is worth waiting for
Running with childlike excitement,
Bursting with anticipation.
Settling in to the swing’s embrace,
Small hands hold to life in animation.
Slow increase through repetitive advances,
Then rocketed into another dimension.
Where moments become motion-filled still-frames,
Leaving lasting experiential impressions.
Higher and higher, eyes closed, head back,
Outstretched arms hanging on with delicate rebellion.
Wind strong, applying resistance with futility,
Continuation of flight beckons.
Swinging free, immortalized within childhood memories,
Alive once more, through recollection.
A gift of play and uninhibited fun,
Shared from generation to generation.
A paint brush in a child’s hand,
Aspirations without inhibitions.
Slightly directionless, yet intentional,
A joyous display of playful expression.
The feel of the brush in a firm little grasp,
The power to create at hand.
Each stroke births colorful purpose,
Imagination comes to life, bold and grand.
Through the eyes of a child,
Sharing their world.
I see a beauty contained within innocence,
Life filled with hope, and promise to hold.
I pray the colors they choose remain bright,
Selecting from God’s endless palette.
Continuing to create light, hope, and joy,
As they move within life’s canvas.
Up, up, and away,
New discoveries await.
Fly with us today…