Glistening orb, sliding ever lower,
Transitory pearl of emotion’s swell,
Its shape held perfect by freezing winter,
But whether genuine, I cannot tell.
She weeps when she does not get her way.
And protests loudly ‘gainst things she fears,
Stomping her foot, keeps entreaties at bay
Hoping mother will give into her tears.
Resolves are pitted, will and stubbornness,
Guidance resisted, lower lip outthrust,
My patience tested, but convictions less;
Grudging and sharp as midwinter snow’s crust.
And as blinding is her smile when fear’s gone,
Her giggles and whoops join in the wind-song.
Here’s to hoping that the next ski lesson will be free of tears, gnashing of teeth, stomping of feet, etc., etc.