At the foot of the stairs.
We should head to high ground,
Or be caught unawares.
It started with whining,
And moved on to moaning
The winds of change blew in,
The air's filled with groaning!
There's a thud!
Then a thump!
And a shout!
And a bump!
And a wail!
Then a cry!
And a sniffle,
And sigh...
Oh, the tempests of toddlers!
Whirlwinds spinning out of control.
Tornados and tempers; we rock and we roll.
A twister of tantrums and troubles and tears,
All of this howling is hard on my ears!
Emotional hurricanes leave only puddles.
Tropical Storm Weeda, in need of some cuddles.
As I remember how Jesus calmed the storm with His voice,
I can only pray that He will speak to our hearts when
we're being tossed about in our own stormy seas.
Be we 3 or 37 years old. :)
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Prompt #2 ~ Write a poem inspired by the word "storm".
Which we might have considered as Lydia's middle name.
At least when it comes to not having MnM's for breakfast.
you have beautiful writing! And my son wasn't too happy when he pooped on the potty and didn't get M&Ms. He didn't understand that he's 4 and potty trained and those are for his little brother!
ReplyDeleteHope there are few storms in Lydia's future, and that the sun (or in this case, daughter) shines brightly!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem! And it so reminded me of my girls' toddler days ...
ReplyDeleteOh yes, I have so been there!!!
ReplyDelete