My day could start in ashen gray
like dried-up winter weed bouquets,
but then my grandson shrieks, “Mammay!”
and color swirls in rich array.

A fingerpainted masterpiece
infused with snacks and sweetened tea–
bright backdrop for the tales we read,
immersed in toddler fantasy.

Flamboyant toys conceal the floor,
confetti from a plastic war
that ranged from couch to Singapore–
and now he begs to go outdoors.

Bemusement stains pale cherub cheeks
and nature springs delighted shrieks
when stones splash into frothy creeks
or bluebird skies frame honking geese.

Aweary fingers grab my hand,
for will alone cannot withstand
the golden grains of sleepy sand;
I lull him into lala land.

Reflection on this drowsing dear
who celebrates with heartfelt cheer
the wonderment of Gaia’s sphere
is every dark mood’s rainbow cure.