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Iron skillet warming up
Scoops of batter in a cup
Strong aroma, coffees done
Just in time, dad must run
Out the door dark suit and tie
Pausing briefly, kiss good-by
Tires roll on down the drive
Another work day has arrived
Little mouths open wide
Lakes of syrup, gooey tide
Sticky lips and slimy chins
Tummies full, the day begins
Two sets of legs short mini strides
“Find us Mom!” a game of hide
Searching for a pitch-dark place
Concealed by coats, an ideal space
Run outside, a chance of rain
That’s okay, no one complains
Tonka trucks big rubber wheels
Making patterns, voices squeal
Tiny hands digging deep
Grains of sand begin to creep
Beneath each nail bed dirt will linger
Caked on knees and every finger
Sunlight hides behind a cloud
Raindrops fall without a sound
Gentle breeze begins to blow
Subtle darkness slowly grows
Little feet, puddles calling,
“Jackets on” mom is stalling
Black boots splashing, splashing, splashing
Clouds resounding, crashing, crashing,
Run inside, mom insists
Rain no more a gentle mist
Off come boots and soggy socks
Mom hands out the painting smocks
Little legs and naked feet
Dangle from the kitchen seats
Swirls of color blue, and black
New creations in a stack
Stomachs growl, time for lunch
Pizza cooks and children munch
Olives from their finger tips
Pure contentment, grinning lips
Special treat pulled from the drawer
Strands of licorice from the store
Dark round circles under eyes
“We’re not tired!” are the cries
Mom thinks of a tale to spin
A pig and his eight-legged friend
Drifting ‘til they wake again
Drifting… drifting…‘til…The End.
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