Blooming Early or Late?
This tyro of six years reads hardly a word.
The idea of language displayed on a screen
or printed on paper strikes him as absurd—
no matter for minds like his, agile and keen.
It’s stuff—string and tape, stacks of cardboard and paper—
he much prefers, and with good reason; for when
he dreams up his newest astonishing caper,
he’s on it more quickly than you can count ten.
He may not leave all budding chemists behind,
or translate the Iliad before he’s thirteen;
the messes he makes rankle, for he’s inclined
to squawk when he’s called on to pick up and clean,
but I do anticipate wonders indeed
the day he decides it’s worth learning to read.
Packaging and Contents
Oh, wrapping! is it any wonder
that you soon will be in shreds
on the morning when the thunder
of small feet that from their beds
speed their way toward waiting treasure
breaks the silence of the night,
last the longing child must measure
ere the dawn of wild delight?
You ribbon, strewn upon the floor—
did you know there’d come a day
when your binding role no more
mattered—you’d be fire’s prey?
Toys and finery everywhere,
feast for eyes and threat to feet
strewn on carpet, draped on chair—
Christmas blest, if not so neat.
Julian D. Woodruff writes poetry and short fiction for children and adults. He recently finished 2020-2021, a poetry collection. A selection of his work can be read at Parody Poetry, Lighten Up Online, Carmina Magazine, and Reedsy.
Julian, your sentence structure and length is becoming legendary as you have a unique facility for continuing a thought while still being able to make it all rhyme. Obviously, I enjoyed reading both of our poems about a kid that prefers everything to reading and the paper trash and toys strewn about on Christmas. The first one affected me personally, since I hated to read books and the notes on music while my mother was trying to teach me to play the piano. It turned out I had amblyopia and had a difficult time see the print and notes. Glasses took care of that.