From my spot...

From my spot in the couch corner,

Coffee in hand, book abandoned beside me,

I watch her world unfurl.

Blocks tower into skyscraper cities

Until a gleeful Godzilla wreaks havoc

And then settles down

For rebuilding.

She builds towers, zoos and baby beds,

Blanket forts and play dough pizzas

With such determined concentration --

As if she is aware that this work

Is one of self construction.

Ensconced, I am a loyal subject

To the queen, now in her stately dance,

Bare skin bobbing to gentle instrumentals,

Now upon her throne, a royal library

All about her feet.

With wool shawl tightly wound around my shoulders,

My fingers flicking delicate stitches across quick needles,

I become a grandmother to her many love-worn dolls.

She cooks, then feeds, then bundles quilts --

Arms rocking gently, she sings them to sleep.

She fills my arms, my heart held in my hands,

As she keeps watch for garden invaders,

As seasons unfurl, we await the varied goodies

Ripe for the plucking, presiding over contented hens

Excavating a favorite pile of leaves.

Her world expands from book to book,

Song to song and word to word,

Infinitely increasing --

A most magical creation, pushing through soil and opening

Wide to the sunlight.

Her world unwraps before her and mine remains

Wrapped up, right here in the light from the window.

My darling queen with her triplets!