Into

Plink plink plink
the little pebbles say.

Plunk plunk plunk,
the bigger rocks say.

Ploonk ploonk kerploosh!
The biggest stones sound.

And Splash! is what I say
when I jump into the pond!

Copyright Jacquelyn Bytyqi 2012

At River's Edge

If you ask me where
is my favorite place to be,
"The river's edge!" Is what I'd say,
if you asked that to me.

The sunlight sparkle on the water,
glinting gold and bright,
the chatter of a flock of geese
just settling from flight.

The skipping of the water bugs
that glide like little boats,
the muddy banks and frothing foam
that look like root beer floats.

Whether stirred with tiny white-caps,
or calm and smooth as glass,
don't matter what the weather,
I like to crouch and watch it pass.

A beaver lazily swims by,
then gives his tail a flick,
and dives down underwater
with his newly gnawed off stick.

Deer and coyote,
duck and hare
all come here to drink,
I come here to play around
or just to sit and think.

There's rocks to throw,
there's mud to squish,
-if I had a pole,
I'd fish-
There's frogs to catch,
boats to watch,
and lots of flies to swat.
There's plenty of cool water
For the days that get too hot.

Just listen to the way the leaves,
from trees along the shore,
crackle underneath my feet,
how could a kid need more?
Shh! And hear the cooing
of a dove up in that tree?
Yes I'm sure the river's edge
is the bestest place for me.

Copyright Jacquelyn Bytyqi 2012

Rockabye

Rockabye baby,
Rockabye blue,
Rockabye baby
All the night through~

Rockabye lashes
Fluttering oft,
Rockabye little lips
Pouting and soft~

Rockabye cheeks
All rosy and round,
Rockabye wand'ring dreams
floating around~

Rockabye tummy,
That tumbling affair,
Rockabye whisps
Of lightly curled hair~

Rockaby pudgy legs,
Tickley toes,
Rockabye fingers
And pink button nose~

Rockabye bunny,
Snuggle you tight,
Rockabye baby
And kiss you goodnight~

Copyright Jacquelyn Bytyqi 2012

Time

Oh let her stay little
A little bit longer,
Oh let her stay little,
My Love ~
Oh let her stay little
A little bit longer,
The babe of my bosom,
My Dove ~

My Valentinies

I have three Valentinies,
There’s Wise One,
Little Bird,
And Tippy Toes ~

Oh she’s into the cupboards; she’s into the drawers,
She scatters her cheerios over the floors,
Yes, she’s an explorer,
My sweet Tippy toes,
With her pink laughing cheeks
And her button nose ~
Tippy toes giggles
At ev-er-y-thing,
Her toys, a balloon,
When her big sister sings ~
I snuggle sweet Tippy Toes
Close to me each night,
She’s cuddly, tickly,
Sweet grin delight ~

And then there is Little Bird,
Fawn eyes round and dark,
She’s shy, gentle, quiet,
And soft as a lark,
But when we’re at home
She is silly as can be!
A hysterical giggle of cuteness, you see ~
She dances and jumps
And has Princess Dreams
And is just as strawberry sweet as she seems ~

Wise One’s a tumble
Of colors and words,
A bright blur of twirling skirts
And bouncing blonde curls ~
Always jumping or skipping,
She’s most likely to fall,
But when talking,
You’ll soon find
That she knows it all! ~
She’ll pause for a peck
Or a hug round the waist,
She loves her special treats
And must get a taste! ~

So you see each Valentiny
Is sweet in her own way,
And I’m so thankful to have
These three Valentinies
Here with me today! ~

Cherishing Moments

Coo COO coop
coo COO coop
coo COO coop

Hollow calls issue forth from the milky grey breast of a ring necked dove perched on the wire high above me. An answer echos back to him from the neighbor's tree. Coo COO coop...

Their exchange continues as I watch my girls run around in the grass of our backyard. The world around us is green and full of blossoms. White petals flutter down in a swirling shower with every breeze that passes through our apple trees. Overhead, seagulls circle and scream. They are pearly specks soaring in the sunlight high, high above us, their white wings flashing against the deep blue rain clouds which have not yet broken. The sky is brilliant, dazzling azure behind the woolly clouds. Laughter rings out across the grass and the air in which these giggles hang, to me forever suspended, is fresh and sweet. New life.

I pull back the wrap and gaze at the face of my baby, snuggled against my breast. Her cheek is smooth and pink, her lips pursed, as though ready for a kiss.

Nearby, her sisters play.

-"Oooh, 'ders a bug, it's a bug! Come 'yook at it!" Says the Little One, squatting on the ground.

"Oh, I think that's probably a nice bug. It won't hurt us. " The Wise One says matter-of-factly as she goes back to picking dandelion "foofs."

"Oooh, 'yook 'dat bug, Mommy, it not hurt us." The Little One runs to me, pointing. It is a harmless box-elder bug in the grass. "-It never never not hurt us?" She asks me after a moment, to be sure. Brow furrowed in her classic look of consternation. Dark hazel eyes so very serious.

"No," I say, "never never."

She runs off to explore some more and I sit back watching them with amusement.

The doves have flown off, but all around us Spring is still bursting -bursting forth like bird song. Creeping out of every crevice, over every mossy rock.

And I am thankful today.

Handprints

How many hand prints,
sticky and small,
have I washed from the TV,
the table and walls?

How many of these
do I wipe in a day,
from the countertops, mirror,
and windows away?

On curtains, the bathtub,
the fridge and the chair,
-there are little prints
stuck about everywhere!

Shall I not miss them
someday when they're gone?
To have clean furniture
that was once smeared upon?

Spotless windows,
dirt-less doors,
print-less, grime-less,
stick-less floors...

Or will I be lonely
when they've gone away,
because they're reminders
of sweet, joy-filled days?..

Of chocolatey kisses,
sloppy and sweet,
of rumple-curled hair
that can never stay neat.

Of mud-crusted arms
thrown around Mommy's neck,
of the day we ate watermelon
out on the deck.

Popsicle stained faces
from hot summer noons,
fingers and elbows
just dripping with juice!

Cereal-milk stains
from eating with spoons,
as we snuggle in blankets
watching cartoons...

Yes, I WILL miss those hand prints
when the kids have all grown,
but I won't be too sad,
You will see,

For preserved deep inside me,
in finger-paint art,
they have left little hand prints
all over my heart
and these I keep always with me,
with me,
these I keep always with me~

Copyright Jacquelyn Bytyqi 2012