Today was grumpy. Maybe it was the rain? Soaked right through to my soul. Or perhaps I just need more sleep.
Today I didn't count my blessings. I willfully miscalculated the lot of them. Instead of counting them I wrote BOOB on the calculator of life.
But this was wrong of me.
As middle son, five years old, said to me today - when mixing up Disney and religion class, confusing, or perhaps amalgamating the baby Jesus and Hercules - 'He was born golden'. What a beautiful phrase, no?
My children are golden, my entire family is golden. I am the luckiest girl alive.
4 comments:
Golden,
By Triona Walsh (without her sayso)
Grumpy
With the rain
Soaked through to my soul
Maybe I need more sleep.
Maybe I'm just getting colder
I didn't count my blessings.
I miscalculated the lot of them.
I wrote BOOB on the calculator of life.
Ahem.
This I think,
Was wrong of me.
My middle son,
he said something you see.
Just five years old,
And confusing things he was told. By the Lord Baby Jesus
Or Disneys Hercules
'I was born golden'.
Golden
That's what he said
That's what he has
My son.
Shining bright in his head.
Out onto me
Shone his beatiful Phrase
Brightening my soul
on the bleakest of days.
:0)
Gush, Gosh - what a load of syruppy lovely niceness!!! (including the poem). Awwww - love the pic too. Those happy smiling faces say it all
Colm! Genius. Cue mammy happy snotfest loves her babies sniffles!
Niamh - ah, kids are good to have sometimes - do really cheer one up :) Of course, they're probably the reason you're grumpy in the first place... naaaaaaaaaah, never!
Poetry is just blogs with the lines chopped off at one end. I know what you mean about kids.
Post a Comment