One. Pome. A. Day.
To begin with. I’ll be attempting “birthday poems” for the first ten years of an imaginary life.
Year ONE: Baby Kate!
Even strapped inside a stroller.
Kate’s poor folks could not control her.
When they went to wash and wipe her.
Kate kicked off her shoes–and diaper.
When they left her with a sitter,
Kate just giggled–then she bit her.
As she grew, things just got worse.
Kate poured juice in mommy’s purse.
Kate ate bugs, and kicked and spat,
And hollered, but despite all that,
Her tired parents thought her sweet,
They kissed her head and tiny feet.
They talked about her spunky laugh,
Her wiggle in the splashy bath.
They oooohed and ahhhhed and blessed her heart, and–
Dreamed sweet dreams of kindergarten.
ON SECOND THOUGHT– this is pretty bad.Â I may NOT try to do this project.Â Gah! NaPoWriMo, are you just a month of high speed and low standards?