A head of STEAM
A SPIKE in temper
A SURGE of energy
A SHOVE to the side
No matter what you call it
In line for a hot buttery SCONE
At the local bakery is
A fight to the finish!
I’ll have a chocolate chip one, please!

Georg’ann

BUILD a sandcastle,
squeal as the waves rush in.
This playing with impermanence
no less sacred than the Tibetan Monks
with their intricate sand mandalas
thrown to the wind
or poured into bodies
of water, sinking out of view.

SPEAK to the SHORE birds
chase them, squeal again.
Delighting in what can’t be caught.
Enticing them to come close
with bits of SCONE.
Reward for their teaching,
though you didn’t know
it was a lesson.

Heather