Footsteps

Here’s a poem I wrote recently that I thought I’d share with you.  I hope you like it.

Past my room in the morning I hear them all tread,
Their footsteps a story replays in my head.
He came into my life with a confident stride,
A few years later I would become his bride.
Not long after and to make life complete,
Came the endearing patter of tiny feet.
The first born was confident, bold and defiant;
The second more timid and less self-reliant;
The third came out kicking but now is so gentle;
The fourth’s stomping step could drive anyone mental;
The fifth, well she pirouetted onto the scene,
Outnumbered by boys who can sometimes be mean.
As I lie here and listen as they pass by on tiles,
Their distinctive footsteps bring me nothing but smiles.

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