Meredith Carson... Across the Pond and Back Again...

Last week my oldest daughter attended a poetry camp.  She was pretty private about all of the camp happenings during the course of the week and mentioned very nonchalantly on Wednesday that there would be a poetry reading on Friday.  "How exciting!" I thought.  I knew that I'd love to go and hear my girl recite a poem or two that she'd scratched out during the week, so I arrived with average expectations and left with puffy eyes and a bursting heart. I think that Emma Carson is a little bit special, and here are a couple of her poems for your enjoyment.  Hearing them read by my girl with cool confidence and captivating expression was almost more than this mama could handle. An Inspiration My dad is Christmas pancakes in August. My dad is a ghost-buster on Halloween. My dad brings you a rose at school on your birthday. My dad is unexpected. My dad knows everything but doesn’t boast. My dad is a teaser. My dad is heart-fully sorry that he teased you. My dad w...

Emma and Sophie were so very excited about Thanksgiving this year.  It was the first Thanksgiving that they remember having in the States and it brought with it a four day weekend!!  Before I was even out of bed this morning, Sophie was up and had composed this little 'poem' on the computer, which she printed and brought to me:  Thanksgiving is here! Thanksgiving has taken so long! But now it is here. Let's all give a cheer! Happy Thanksgiving to all! We all got up this morning, cooked a big breakfast while the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade paraded in the background, and then we just relaxed.  I let Lili take a really long, lovely nap on my chest while George and I chatted and listened to old music.  We were engaged in some serious R&R.  Eventually it occurred to us all that we were really hungry, and that Thanksgiving dinner takes a while to cook.  Who was the fool who told me that giant double turkey breast in my fridge would only require an h...

I only wish I had written this... Baby Feet by Edgar Guest Tell me, what is half so sweet As a baby's tiny feet, Pink and dainty as can be, Like a coral from the sea? Talk of jewels strung in rows, Gaze upon those little toes, Fairer than a diadem, With the mother kissing them! It is morning and she lies Uttering her happy cries, While her little hands reach out For the feet that fly about. Then I go to her and blow Laughter out of every toe; Hold her high and let her place Tiny footprints on my face. Little feet that do not know Where the winding roadways go, Little feet that never tire, Feel the stones or trudge the mire, Still too pink and still too small To do anything but crawl, Thinking all their wanderings fair, Filled with wonders everywhere. Little feet, so rich with charm, May you never come to harm. As I bend and proudly blow Laughter out of every toe, This pray, that God above Shall protect you with His love, And shall guide those little feet Safely down life...