Warm breeze teases my pale winter skin,
As sun beams dance across the yard.
The sky is clear, a dusty powder blue,
The covered ground, still cold and hard.
The geese call out as they fly overhead,
Home from their winter's long sojourn.
A robin brightly greets the world, a sign
Of hope, of nature new reborn.
Tulips poke out from the frosty gardens,
To drink, thirsty, the new spring air.
Children emerge, and happy, greet the sun,
Boots and t-shirts, clashing outer wear.
I stand there on this lovely springtime day,
I smile at the welcome scene,
I inhale deep; the scent of damp, sweet morning,
It smells like dog poo.
- Laura Freeman -
March 28, 2013
Thursday, 21 March 2013
I have an idea for a book. It's going to be a bestseller (well, I'll buy a few copies, anyway). Sort of an Erma Bombeck meets Bill Cosby book. I'll have a series of essays about my children and the quirky things they say and do. An extension of my facebook statuses (statii? statusii?)
So far, all I've got is a title. "Reflections on Motherhood". And the cover art. My smudged bathroom mirror.
Why? Tell me why?????