Seeds and water
for to bake them a daughter
stirred up with a stick of cinnamon
a bowl turned from ironwood
held the dough until you stood
and sought to fill yourself with what was good
but angry mouths are dripping kerosene
sneering, “Oh Jelly Bean, what will fill your belly up this time?”
twigs and twine
8 bottles of wine
even the kittens and the mice
hide at feeding time
so with his lumber and her thunder
they built a home to tuck you under
and away from shadows rising in the night
but the wood will rot
if it is not taught
to hold it’s family tight upon a lightning’s strike
hammer and nails
and puppy dog tails
won’t keep you safe from the great white whale
chop chop the wood and count its rings
see a strong oak curl into ribbons of shavings
some woods will split like bricks of mud
some splinter and sweat and cry out blood
some peel and fold like gypsy moth wings
that rock-a-bye back to earth
and build a nest in the spring
soon you will do this very thing
as they watched her grow
Lumber and Thunder began to know
a shapeless shadow resting in her eye
pins and wires held her head still
as she was told to go to bed
beneath a ceiling made of rabbit fur and eyes
Thunder handed her a bone
so Jelly wouldn’t be alone
and a scraggly dress done up in shiny stones
well Jellybean gave quite a show
flaming hoops and red lassos
orbited her throat as it would sing
all eyes on the glow of my big round bone
you make think me small
but when I am grown
I will be known
but jealous Thunder came
and shook the crowd
to satisfy her belly growl
their ghosts cooked up a vengeful stormy cloud
thunder and lightening split the sky
into shards of blackberry pie
seeing the mess that she was in
Jellybean began to spin
until all of her colors soiled her pen
still she crafted an escape
through a painting on a wall
of a lady who agreed to share the shade of her parasol
finding she had fled her pen
poor lumber’s heart fell broken
and when his eyes did open salty seas spilled over
lungs went pale
as tears set flow
with a heave and a ho
the wood let go
chop chop the wood and count its rings
rock-a-bye back to earth on wood chip wings
some woods will split like bricks of mud
some splinter and sweat and cry out blood
some peel and fold like gypsy moth wings
that rock-a-bye back to earth and fall apart at the seams
way down in the Spring I’ll be waiting