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Mary-Ellen Grisham

You smile
And daisies dance across the lawn
weaving their magic around the edges --
Clouds leap across the heavens in mounds
of loop-de-loos,
Two grumpy toads pull up stakes in the side lot,
heading for the pot of hot-pink asters.
June bugs bugaloo down the drive and
small spiders spin smiley faces in soft silk.
The tiny tremor in my heart moves mountains,
While the crescent moon hops over the morning star.

The look in your eyes is a statement
which causes six souls to skip across Vatican Square,
the Ave Maria's of giddy nuns rising on wings of gold.
Bunnies tremble, fawns smile, and green garden snakes
do figure eights in the peony patch.
The broken down car eases into the garage on its own say-so,
settling in organized heaps along the walls.
The morning rolls over with lemon laughter, joyous gurgles
of sound springing from the throat of vibrant day.
Breakfast is a symphony of crunches and giggles,
And even the crispy cream donuts are okay.

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