My Little world

I posted this picture the other day and a friend challenged me to write about it. Thanks, Melinda. Here is what I came up with. 
Also, if you didn't read yesterday's post, my sister thinks that is where a future book lives for me. I think it's just where my trauma lives. ;)

My Little world,
in plastic hooves with plastic eyes,
has experienced the joy
of a brown eyed girl
with curly hair.

Her curiosity
and creativity
and dedication
was nothing short of

Her small hands,
browned from the sun
and dirt,
held us 
and galloped us
around many worlds.

And then the basketball
found her hands.
And the keyboard.
And her husband. 
And she was too busy
and writing
and caressing
to take us on adventures. 

We were shared with 
other little hands,
but they never really loved us
quite like she could. 

Then one day she took hold
She cleaned and brushed,
with the same care
she once did.
Her hands were larger, 
yet more gentle somehow. 
And in her eyes we saw 
the sparkle. 

And she handed us to
some smaller hands,
the shade of brown familiar.

But it was the eyes,
the same brown-black,
filled with that spark and
sense of wonder
that let us know

we had found our way home.

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Melinda Moss said...

This made me cry sentimental tears. The post yesterday made me laugh until I cried. I say you listen to your sister. ;)

Hannah said...

these crazy hormones... I can hardly read anything without tearing up! This is so sweet and I love it.