A Comfy Kind Of Restless

Hey 😊

Today I was busy with stuff in the house, so this is going to be up later than usual, but I hope you’ve all been feeling good?

The prompt said: today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that invokes a specific object as a symbol of a particular time, era, or place. [from napowrimo.net]

Weirdly, I wrote ANOTHER rhyming poem.  The syllable counts aren’t uniform, but they aren’t awful 😉

BRANCHING OUT

The toddler bed nestles

our couch-back, in parts;

I dismantled it

with an ache in my heart.

No toddlers now live here,

nor have for some time;

weight limit’s exceeded,

and this I know fine.

But memories plague me,

and tug at my hem

along with ‘near’ futures:

nest empty. Flown men.

Those dimply wee knuckles

tucked ‘neath sleeping faces

I spied through the bed guards

are gone.  In their places

Are capable digits

and oft-furrowed brows

that puzzle at problems,

seem wisdom-endowed.

But that bed cushioned nightmares

and furthered kid freedom,

furnished the way for

new-grown arboretums.

There is something in my eye *fans face with her hand*.

The pic above is of Youngest from last year, with his usual myriad of fluffy friends – and his own topsy turvy take on sleeping conventions! The bed only recommended a kid of up to 50lbs slept in it, and at 8 years old Youngest has just crept over that figure.

He now has one of the single beds my mum had squirrelled away in the eves of her house, which Eldest helped me put together on Saturday.  We must have done a reasonable job because that’s it stayed intact for most of a week!

Well, I’m off to watched an episode of Star Trek with the menfolk before the kids go down, so take care and I’ll catch you tomorrow 😊

Monty X

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