A Poem By My Son

My middle child came up to me to me this evening and told me that he had something to read to me.  I sat in front of my computer and listened to him.  Tears started to well up in my eyes.  I asked him if and where he would like it shared.

“On your blog?” he asked tentatively.

“Of course,” I replied.

Here it is:

Bedtime Stories by Miles

In that room, among toys, and a bed,
are trapped words.  Ordinary words.
Stuck on the pages like flies on fly-
paper.  We free them.  The words
fly from my mouth, and swirl in the
air landing on every surface.  I read
my sister stories of bad cats and silly
walks and books that help you fall
asleep.  I kiss her forehead.  She hugs
me tight.  The words, at ease, come back
to the page.  With ease, my sister
Caroline
slowly
falls
to
sleep.

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