Momma’s (a) Tulip

Chubby little hands reaching out

to grasp Momma’s flowering tulip,

the same red as her upper lip.


Inside, Momma sits without doubt.

Sipping cool sweet tea in the chair,

she seems to be without a care.


Toddler arms take a china pot spout,

Pouring water hot from the sun.

Down dark green leaves it does run.


Momma’s inside eating her sauerkraut.

Lipstick lips opening, fork descends,

bitten metal, the tea upends.


Toddler sees Momma on the route.

Grabs the flowers holding quite tight.

Won’t let go, hands filled with might.


Momma’s lips go in a firm pout.

Toddler eyes, filled to the brim,

is Momma here to visit him?


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