Pink Symphony

She interrupted my morning plan.

Instead of wiping down woodwork and watering plants,

I watched Thomas the CHOO! CHOO! Train,

read fairytales forever and ever,

her black satin curls tickling my nose

as she clapped her hands and wriggled in my lap.

We made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,

licked globs of thick nutty butter off our fingers,

and smeared purple mounds of oozing jelly

onto her sticky pink cheeks.

We laughed  and hollered, Yum! Yum!

while the dog jumped and barked

‘round our feet begging

for chewed chunks

cascading from the laced bib.

 

When her mother returned

with packages and outside air,

her round torso tight with Spring child,

we greeted her with squeals and hugs,

then shared our gooey bounty,

recited the tales,

and sang our songs.

The trilling of the child’s voice ~

clamoring, chattering our names over and over

“Mommee! MomMom! MomMomee!”

cooing, coaxing, cajoling,

made my head whirl

with the wild music of her euphonic whimsy.

She twirled and hopped

and plopped with thumps and bumps

until her glee gave way to hiccups

that popped from giggles

inside musical bubbles.

 

When her brightness began to fade

and she reached for Pink Bear,

her mother buttoned her into her lavender coat

with the big blue and green daisy on the back

(just beneath her curls),

and took her home for a nap,

shutting the door behind them.

Adorned in my Fairy Princess kiss,

I waved goodbye from the window.

 

I turned off the light

in the kitchen –

The click of the switch startled me;

or was it the color of gray turned on?

I picked up the purple book from the floor,

“Mother Goose Rhymes”,

that just minutes before

rollicked with Wee Willy Winkie, Bo Beep,

and Jack jumping over his candlestick.

The cumbrous book thick with giants and castles,

pressed heavy against my chest.

I hugged it, sinking my chin

into slick vanilla pages,

and placed it back on the shelf

between Thumbelina and Winnie the Pooh.

 

Cookie crumbs, scattered like

chocolate confetti

taunted that the party was over –

time to clean up.

I soaked my sponge in soapy water,

swiped looping frames

around finger tip smudges,

and watered my plants with cherry Kool Aid.

The hollow whine of my vacuum cleaner

gulped smothering spaces of

fluffy pink silence while

I hummed, “Here we go ’round the Mulberry Bush”….