kind eyes she has,
a beaming smile that widens to say,
“How are you?”
long before I hear it,
and calls me by my special name.
A bouncing little lady,
with arms wide and a broad smile,
her mouth opens and Behold!
an instruction falls out,
which I fearfully and gladly catch
with both hands
and set in my heart to obey.
A small tiny lady,
emerges from the tall shrubbery and flowers
that first greeted me like lush cherubim,
she flashes me her straight teeth
and I know that very instant
there is only one thing on her mind –
Coffee outside in the garden!
This is my own, one and only, little old lady.
The screen undims to big eyes
and lots of hair wildly poking out of that little head,
“Good morning, teacher!” she yells today in caps, aloud.
My happiest student, my ardent reader.
Weekly we explore tales and lore,
learning from old ladies, children, magic brushes, and frogs
new words and how to say them, virtue, and bad behaviour.
When our time is over she is forlorn and says goodbye and thank you over again,
my heart melts, and she has made my week.
Was it that long ago that you were
Though, I must say,
your Mum has done a fine job
of raising some fine new friends, for me!
Fine new, not-so-little, soon-no-longer-small friends
who share stories, and poetry
from school, and life, and wild imaginations.
But most of all, the simple affections
shared between children and their affectionate Aunty –
Cover image by Alex Green / Pexels.