Pride

I am a proud Mama. My big girl Amelia wants desperately to be a writer when she grows up. Here is the poem she wrote for her teacher at Christmas. She is nine years old.

A snowy day

White, not a pinch of any other color on the ground

The snow brings pleasure

Icicles hanging like frozen tears in the air

You look around and what you see is fun

Grabbing a sled resembling a rounded cookie

Running and tracking footprints in the marshmallow ground

You sled down a long hill

All time and space seems to whiz past you as you leave reality

You come back suddenly as you hit the bottom hard

You might cry

But, no, you think you will laugh

Snow trickles down your back as you echo

Miles and miles your laughing travels

You travel with it

You see so many people full of delight

They burst of laughter and enjoyment as you float past

Each turning into a silver firework

As silver as a frozen Popsicle

As silver as the “tears” on the windows

You come zooming back

Something cold and wet has just hit your leg

You quickly pack a ball of snow and hurl it at your accompanying person

You snowball fight until you think you are frozen

You enter the heat of the house and the welcoming smell of hot chocolate

Sitting by the warm fireplace, you drink a chocolaty liquid

It looks silver

Silver like the fireworks you witnessed

Silver like a heated marshmallow

Like the marshmallow ground you tracked through

You feel warmth and happiness as you tell stories around in circles

That is how a snowy day works