Baltimore, Maryland
I find you in all kinds of places,
Cozy, little, hiding spaces.
Cornered with your little schemes–
Mischief (one of many themes).
Huddled just behind the door—
And only you can say what for.
Under beds, half awake—
Giggling on a daydream break.
Crouched inside your quiet nook–
Lost in pages of a book.
Each spot is chosen well,
But they all have a little tell.
And once found, you seem surprised,
That your secret has been compromised!
Baltimore, Maryland
Last night you found the moon,
A silver sliver in the sky.
You leaned against the glass,
With wonder in your eye.
Soon you’ll count the stars,
There are more than you can know.
But never let that stop you
From giving it a go!
Note to Josie: Last night, at the balcony door, you were very excited to point out the moon and name it. We are looking forward to showing you the stars when we move to the country!
Quince Street, Philadelphia
Listen little girl–
You on Quince’s stones.
Can you hear an echo
Of the cracked bell’s tones?
Hear Liberty reverberate–
after all this time.
Listen for a moment,
to its hopeful chime.
Central Park, New York City
A splash of pink,
In a patch of green,
In a concrete city,
Is quite the scene!
Baltimore, Maryland
Slowly, it turns its head your way—
The beast can smell your fear.
Its lips draw back along its teeth—
It knows that you are near.
With every monstrous step it takes,
The beast imprints the ground;
But even moving earth this way,
It hardly makes a sound.
Its eyes are red in the moonlight,
Pools of the blood they seek.
And the beast is hunting for you,
So small and scared and weak.
Mid-stride it halts and turns to stone—
The beast has heard a noise.
Perhaps you cried or just exhaled—
It listens and enjoys.
So near now, it drools just a bit,
An acrid, slimy rope.
And as the beast rounds the last bend,
It knows you have no hope.
It breaks through brush in one great leap,
And at the sight of you,
The beast knows it was very wrong—
You’re more than it can chew!
Westminster, Maryland
Baltimore, Maryland
Something from Aunt Mo–
A collection of my clothes,
Cut up in little squares,
And sewed in pretty rows.
What a gift, Aunt Mo–
Memories saved this way!
A record of a smaller me,
That I can use each day.
A big “thanks”, Aunt Mo!
Now I’ll stay warm in bed,
With layers of my past,
And sweet dreams in my head.
Note to Josie: Mommy and Pappa couldn’t bear to lose some of your early baby clothes. So, as you outgrew your clothes, Mommy sent them to Aunt Mo in Illinois. Lucky for us, she is a clever girl with a creative streak. For your second birthday, Aunt Zanna delivered this blanket from your Aunt Mo.
Baltimore, Maryland
I’ve slept through a very long night,
But now I’ve sensed the growing light.
I’d like to stretch and run about.
“I am awake now; let me out!”
I hear them in the other room,
Smell the usual brewed perfume.
Have they forgotten? Shall I pout?
“I am awake now; let me out!”
There! Someone just walked past my door.
Oh, I can’t take this anymore!
Perhaps a yell—in case there’s doubt?
“I am awake now; let me out!”
At last my door is open wide,
And Mommy reaches my crib’s side.
And so I stand and start to shout–
“I am awake now; let me out!”
Note to Josie: Mommy and Pappa thank you very much for being a terrific sleeper! You have slept soundly through the nights since you were only a couple of months old. You happily go to bed at 8:00 P.M. and wake up between 7:00 A.M. and 8:00 A.M. We usually hear you chatting with your toys for half an hour, before you decide to make it known that you want out. It works for us!
Fells Point, Baltimore
Against a tall black fence, I lean,
Standing under a gull’s cry,
Peering through a space between.
The Harbor offers much to glean,
And that’s precisely why
Against a tall black fence, I lean.
Under foot are tufts of green.
They battled brick just to try
Peering through a space between.
It is lovely and serene,
Water within reach, but sigh,
Against a tall black fence, I lean.
I press against the metal screen,
Hoping for more to spy,
Peering through a space between.
And I am part of this Harbor scene,
Viewed by all those passing by—
Against a tall black fence, I lean,
Peering through a space between.
Baltimore, Maryland
There once was a girl in the city,
Whose curls were said to be pretty.
When I found her that day,
There was nothing to say,
Except that my straight hair’s a pity!
Mary Lundstedt 