"Little man"
grandma said,
"I think you're addicted"
she said as she smiled
and took his book,
he was asking
her to read,
for the hundredth time.
"Crawl up into my lap,
settle in, and I will read
it once again."
Grandma said in his
deep dark eyes.
With his excited
dance then crawl
He snuggled
next to me.
"In the light of the moon."
his little finger
points to the moon.
"a little egg lay on a leaf"
grandma watched his
finger slide over the page
to tickle the little egg on the leaf.
"One Sunday morning the warm
sun came up and -pop!"
Grandmas chuckles as she
felt a little jump wiggle
through his
little excited body.
"-Out of the egg
came a tiny and
very hungry caterpillar."
grandma read happily to him.
He turned the page
and listen to grandma as she read,
"He started to look for some food"
Grandma said with a smile
for she knew this was
his favorite part.
"On Monday
he ate through one apple.
But he was still
hungry." she smiled
as he grabbed the
pretend apple
in his hands
and ate it whole
in one square bite.
Grandma closed her
eyes so she could hear
her little man
repeat the words,
"But he was still hungry." to her.
his first words was this sentence.
not hello , mom or dad.
"But he was still hungry." was spoken
after grandma read
about the two pears
and still again after three plums
Grandma's eyes watered at four strawberries,
to hear "but he was still hungry"
after the caterpillar ate five oranges,
was grandma's reward
for all the times spent
rereading the tiny tale.
Little hands rose
and hovered over the pages
waiting to grab
the "piece of chocolate cake, one ice-cream cone
One pickle. one slice of Swiss cheese,
one salami, one Lollipop,
one piece of cherry pie,
one sausage, one cupcake
and one slice of watermelon."
Grandma stopped gave him
a hug as she patted his stomach and read,
"That night, he had a stomachache."
Little hands close the book,
every time, right here.
I have always wondered why.
Grandma closed here eyes
and thanked the creator
for the sweet sound,
of his sweet words,
"but he was still hungry."
play over and over
in her elated and excited
celebration.
She thought,
My little caterpillar,
so small on the ground
you have been silent
cocooned in your head.
Another school year
is dawning
for summer has passed
slowly you nibble
away at the
confines of your cocoon,
growing and hungry
changing, emerging, expanding
your wings
to ride on the wind
of words.
Grandma lowers her eyes
and gave thanks
to the Creator
as she read to herself,
"He was [and always will be]
a beautiful butterfly."
and closed his book
for the hundredth and one
time.
*****************
I was nominate tagged to write about the following topic.
Presenting… The Break Out of Your Cocoon challenge 🦋
Butterfly poems are a genre of poetry that use the butterfly as a symbol or metaphor to explore themes such as transformation, growth, beauty, and the fleeting nature of life. Have a go at one.🌺
James and Oneg's challenges have been so fun and challenging. I have found the challenges have spurred growth within me. The link below will show you all the topics we were challenged to write about.
About the Creator
Sheila L. Chingwa
Welcome to my world.
Welcome to my thoughts.
I am proud to be a Native American Elder born and raised in Northern Michigan. Thanks to my hard work I have a B.A. in Education and a Masters in Administration and Supervision in Education.
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Comments (8)
Loved it! 😊💕
Beautiful and sentimental. This poem is great. This deserve top story in my book 🥰♥️The sweet movements reading to a child a good book.
So sweet!!
Beautifully written!
This is so poignant and sweet. I really enjoyed reading it. Thank you! 🤍
Still remember reading the same books to my nephew and niece, and how I used to love this one, too. Excellent!
That is both happy, wistful, sad, and thankful.
This was adorable! Picturing it was heartwarming. 💜