The Clock of Childhood
I guess I’m not the only one “growing up” these days! This precious poem written by my eleven-year-old daughter is the perfect follow-up to yesterday’s birthday post. Her assignment was “to write a poem about growing up.” And according to her teacher, “You’ll know you’ve written a great poem if it makes your mom cry.” Lizzy got an A+ in my book:
The Clock of Childhood
You take your very first step
and break into a run,
you are bouncing off the walls now,
you are bouncing off the walls now,
and the clock strikes ONE.
The last time you ask for blanky at bed time,
and the clock strikes TWO.
The first day of school and your mom starts to cry,
and the clock strikes THREE.
The last time you ask your dad to carry you to bed,
and the clock strikes FOUR.
The last time you ask your mom to read you a picture book,
and the clock strikes FIVE.
Your first crush.
and the clock strikes SIX.
Your first middle school dance,
and the clock strikes SEVEN.
Your first of a million times you ask your mom,
“Do I look O.K.?”
and the clock strikes EIGHT.
Your first date,
and the clock strikes NINE.
Your first heartbreak,
and the clock strikes TEN.
Your first prom,
and the clock strikes ELEVEN.
You take one more look at your dad before you say, “I DO.”
and the clock strikes TWELVE.
and the clock strikes TWELVE.
-Elizabeth Bruxvoort, Sept. 2011
You are the poet…writer…I have ever known!
Here is a poem I wrote for you….
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Pella was great
Because of YOU!!!!