Friends

my best friend lives far away
in a place I've never seen
she sends me postcards
I visit there in my dreams

I can tell her anything
she's supportive and nice
she'll do anything for me
I never have to ask twice

sometimes she calls and we talk
she mostly listens though
I know she worries about me
I think she knows

sometimes I gather my teddy bears
I put them in a circle under the tree
I hope they have a friend like I do
if they were real, I'd set them free

Mother's Hands

Mother's hands were full
teaching her children
the golden rule
Mother's hands were fast
serving others first,
herself last
Mother's hands were true,
cleaning sticky fingers
covered with glue
Mother's hands changed diapers
feet she held in one hand,
the other held the wipers
Mother's hands were soft before
as the years passed,
they grew calloused and sore
Mother's smile stayed bright
when her skin loosened
and her joints became tight
Mother put family first,
loving them at their best
as well as their worst
her's the lesson we learn:
Mothers were made to love
and give love in return

From a Child's Eye View

children don't notice long lines of traffic
they hear the windshield wipers going doo-roop, doo-roop
they hear the rain dripping
the cars swooshing by
they see semis, much more enormous than dad's SUV
they see wind tossing leaves across the interstate
the ten red cars passing
they feel the rain tickle their fingers through the open window
they feel the cool, wet air
the damp seats
and are startled to learn that the windows
MUST BE ROLLED UP NOW!

A Poem

Yes, I want you to start
Exercise Number One
Find a journal and describe it to me
Write a poem in your reverie
And as friends, tell me why
You're as sad as you are
I can't help, not knowing
the cause of the scars
Please share and we'll talk
About why life's not fair
I'll listen and offer advice, I swear