I was going through some old memories I have typed and found this poem. It is long but captures that time in 1990 when I was engaged in full days of grandchild day-care and loving it. Reading the poem again brought back to me the reality of that Rock-a-roo chair and the Rock-a-roo song and the feeling of that little boy in my arms. That little boy is now 25.
***
Rock-A-Roo Chair
***
rocking with a baby
is one of the moments
where cuddle and
special take over
and pressure and must do
melt away
***
cherish the feel
of a tiny one
wrapped tight in blankets
rocking back and forth
forth and back
***
start to breathe
differently in a rocking
chair – breaths
synchronize with
sounds of wooden runners
skimming the floor
***
sometimes feet make
a pattern sound
heel – toe; heel toe heel toe
heel – toe; heel toe heel toe
baby quiets
adult too
***
sometimes songs gather
themselves in the rocker
Rockin in the rockin chair
You and me
Looking out the window
What do you see
Sometimes you see a car
Sometimes you see a car
And sometimes the car is green
and sometimes the car is red
and sometimes the car is blue
and sometimes the car is yellow
Rockin in the rockin chair
You and me…..
***
two and three-year-olds
will fight sleep for nearly
twenty-seven minutes
wanting to pick the
next thing you see out the window
or the next color
the list is endless
the moon, leaves,
animals, sun
real or pretend
there can always be
another verse
***
sooner or later
and later or sooner
even three-year-olds
get eyelids that
flicker closed
and heads that burrow
into softness and
sleepness
***
adult heads rest too
on the high backed rocker
adult eyes slide shut
sinking in the luxury
of rockin’ rhythm
and toddler scrumptious
***
rocking with a baby
is the moment
where cuddle
and special
are most
***
© Copyright 1990 by Ann Freeman Price
