For You.

You move like Mowgli,

my jungli,

my wild girl.

Leapfrogger of bollards,

wall clamberer,

runner with your school socks

falling down.

Don't change

yet,

Oh writer of tiny most miniature love notes

to your friends

and me.

Don't stop singing,

in your nasal way, off key,

the narration of your life

when you think that no-one's listening.

I see the false encroaching

I see a finish

a polish

a veneer approaching

And even though I'd like to keep it back with kisses

I recognize the day

of growing up and in's

Not far away.

◄ Man Overboard

Dead Language. ►

Comments

Profile image

Emma Robinson

Sat 6th Feb 2010 20:47

I really enjoyed this one Rachel, have recently become a mum myself and made me think about making the most of the time when she's littl. I really liked the ideas of this one, the wildness has to be tamed when you grow up- ace! :)

Profile image

Cate Greenlees

Sat 6th Feb 2010 20:32

Lovely! I was one of the lucky ones... my daughter never got embarrased thoughout her teens when I showed affection in public, maybe because she grew up without a father. Although there does come a time when you have to stand aside and let someone else become the main person in your childs life. Thats hard.
Cate xx

Profile image

Isobel

Tue 2nd Feb 2010 21:05

Lovely - as Ann says - one that all mothers can identify with. I dread the day my 9 year old shrinks from public affection - I am so used to throwing my arms round her whenever but I know that day is fast approaching...

Profile image

Dave Bradley

Tue 2nd Feb 2010 13:33

I loved this Rachel. Anything which makes us stop and really appreciate kids, or (especially) an individual child, is worth having, and this does it so well. One to keep in the scrapbook and show her when her own jungli is driving her mad in a few years time.

Profile image

Ann Foxglove

Tue 2nd Feb 2010 06:04

Excellent poem Rach, speaks to all mothers, esp nowadays! The child is beautifully described, really comes alive. xx

Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Tue 2nd Feb 2010 00:19

Good morning Mummy Rach-indeed this poem denotes what kind of Mummy you are-a very loving one-and on that denotation,I shall gerrnite! Stefzzzzzzzzz-xx

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message