Puddle Heaven

Puddle on a sidewalk reflecting trees and a chain link fence

Stamp, stomp,
puddle heaven,
fountains everywhere
when you’re seven.

Laugh and howl,
wet socks,
drippy drops everywhere,
forget clocks.

Arrive speckled
with muddy blots,
not welcome everywhere,
stomach in knots.

Will mom see past hems
dripping dark dots?
Rather than dirt everywhere,
she sees cheetah spots!

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: Poets find joy in puddles:

“The world is mud-luscious…
[and] puddle-wonderful”
—  e.e. cummings

Since writing a haibun on puddles, I’ve wondered how cumming’s mother viewed him, arriving home. My poem’s been in its chrysalis, but finally that wondering took shape and spread wings.

Another fun poem about puddles is Puddle Splash by Roann Mendriq:

What is it about rain puddles,
that make one want to splash?
That turns us into children,
in a quick and happy flash?

Read the rest here.

Poetry Friday with kids

Big thanks to Robyn Hood Black, a wonderful poet and author, for hosting this week’s Kidlitospere Poetry Friday extravaganza.

33 thoughts on “Puddle Heaven

  1. What a wonderful trio! I love ee cumming’s poem and where your liberated wings took you on flight over puddle heaven. …And, yes, I do love to stomp in a puddle, as much as to pc vent as to be emphatic about who knows what! (Who knows–that thought might demand my wings). God bless you! Thanks for another uplifting PF offering!

    Liked by 1 person

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