Ramona, age three-and-a-half, composed this poem yesterday:
My socks are dirty, but I don't care
My friendship comes along to me
And Jesus is upon me.
It's not quite Emily Dickinson, but I have to say (and I know I'm biased, so it needn't be pointed out) that it did give me a sort of stop-sensation on my soul, in a way that perhaps only a mother can appreciate. I admit that the socks seem a bit out of place, and if she's still combining dirty socks with the Lord in her poetry when she's five, I'll have to put my foot down (no pun intended.) But for now, I'll take it.
2 comments:
I think it's magnificent, especially for not quite four! And there's something earthy about dirty socks, and the contrast...
By the way, do you know the children's book about Emily D., "The Mouse of Amherst" by Elizabeth Spires? Lovely. I think I can get the Amazon link,
http://www.amazon.ca/exec/obidos/ASIN/
0374350833/qid=1135055979/sr=1-1/ref=sr
_1_0_1/702-1714200-2731251
A very merry Christmas, if I don't make it back here before the weekend!
Well, Becky, if pressed to throw aside all pretense of objectivity, I'd have to agree it's brilliant. :-) And yes, the socks are a nice touch -- stress the philosophical underpinning of having one's priorities straight.
Post a Comment