Early Hold

grayscale photo of newborn baby

Photo: Zaid Abu Taha on Pexels.com

 

She is early in birth

And early in breath,

Independent in all.

She’s come forth barely cooked

But is here even so

Stubbornly grabbing hold

Ravenous in her howls,

In a world just a tad

Unprepared

For her life-hungry spirit

And determined

Big soul.

 

 

[Dedicated to all the little ones who arrive exactly at the right time … for them. … and to all who work with them, to make it the best possible time and outcome.]

 

For the dVerse Poetry Challenge: Early in 44 words

 

Cookie Crumble

four star shaped cookies

Photo by Cook Eat on Pexels.com

 

It is the cookie that she wants

No teddy bear, no owl, no bunny.

It is the cookie that she holds

In hand, not in her tummy.

She takes it with her to the park

She holds it all through bedtime story.

She’d bring it right into the bath

To her it’s mandatory.

Her mother sighs

Because she knows:

It is the cookie that will crumble

All over blanket, sheets, and pillow.

The cookie that she’ll have to pry the last remains of

From her child’s hand tomorrow.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

Market Day

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

 

“Where is that boy?” Hassan demanded.

“I sent your son to your father,” Um-Ali responded from below.

Her voice was calm in the way that often enraged him. As if she’s talking to a baby, he fumed.

“What were you thinking?!” he exploded. “You know I need him on market day!”

“I know you need help on market day,” she stated. “I called Mustafa.”

Her brother. Lord of bossy annoyance. Hassan glowered at his wife.

She chuckled. “You look exactly as Ali had this morning when he thought he’d have to go with you.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers June-22-2018