A poem about my boys.....

A Mother’s Musings (by Ruth 3/22/09)

My little one is sleeping like a whisper in a cloud
Peacefully he slumbers making not a single sound
How quite unusual, suddenly I realize, for boys
Tend to make a fair amount of sound-mostly noise.

Old coffee cans, patriot marching drums,
Sticks for swords and rifles dare the enemy come.
Kitten becomes ally, puppy becomes foe,
Until he needs a horse on which to travel to and fro.

I often notice that beneath his fingernails
In little rows of blackness like rounded out porch rails
Is dirt. It bears a silent witness in perfect formation
To the fact that he has gone on a recent exploration.

Where did it take him? Although I surely know
I can only theorize the places his imagination goes
A rope becomes a tail, a tail become a swing
A quilt becomes a sail and happily he sings

As he runs to and fro and explores most everything.

All around the garden, up and down the lawn,
Learning growing laughing dawn to dusk to dawn!
And every little daydream he makes daring for awhile
And his mother looks on him and cannot help but smile.