Lament, O plushie sun with mirrored face!
Lament, O moon cross-stitched on my blankie!
Momma has left, whereto I cannot see,
Abandoning me wholly to this place!
On tummy settled, much to my disgrace,
Endeavoring my wayward limbs to free,
My heavy head submits to gravity.
How long must I this foolishness embrace?
I hear her voice — does she not heed my call?
I’d go to her, but this great skill I lack.
No sooner do I rise than do I fall.
Red-faced and arched, I thrash and drool and smack.
A strange event. I quiet, much appalled.
I’ve come to lie recumbent on my back!
Written September 2020. Some babies just don’t like tummy time.
comedy, everyday life, parenthood, rhyming, short, sonnet, toddler sonnets
Dinosaur Fondue Poetry 