Hells bells
And all who dwells
I’ve lost count
Of our blessings
Again
We sit
Crossed legged
On the kitchen floor
Currently experiencing
A power surge
The plate of sugar
Froths and foams
I want it so bad it scratches my nose
She cries
Exactly why I packed a tissue
Little bean
I wipe her face
Turn her round
Brush her hair
There is serenity
In movement
A sense of freedom
And being
Rock the infant
To and fro
We are all that’s left
In some ways yes
In other ways no
She sings her songs
I’ve watched you dance
A thousand times
But I only saw you
Framed today
Silly old me
Look spider
Ran over our head
We are tangled in her web
A dream gladly entered
A part happily played
She draws us in crayon
Less harsh than pencil
Hands busy playing
Taking us apart
Not in scorn or spite
In absolution
She says
Like a sign post
Or photo
Look we are here
Sugar
Smitten
Bitten
Currently experiencing
A power delay.
