After 2 weeks in Kenya, a Royal Wedding and a couple of bank holidays, the blog is back. Over the next couple of weeks I am going to load entries from my Kenyan diary but to re-start my blogging, here is a  poem –

The nursery owner’s  love song

You could be my pink blob of glitter playdough,

my bee-bot, my large blocks, my gruffalo.

You could be the panda in my duplo zoo

and I could click your stickle bricks too.

 

We could go stomping where the wild things are,

chase the duck in the truck and Laura’s star.

You could be Thomas on my wooden Brio track.

You could be the carrot in our healthy snack.

 

I want to wind your bobbin up and row, row, row your boat

I’d be your tiny turtle with a bubble in my throat.

You could wave my parachute, you could tap my shape

We could both eat plastic peas off yellow plastic plates.

 

I’m a very hungry caterpillar. You’re a ripe red plum.

If I shake my tambourine, would you beat your drum?

You could ting my triangle in our marching band.

We could hide our dinosaurs in sand.

 

I want to play heuristically and

learn to paint artistically

You could be my muse.

You could be my owl baby

You could learn to fly with me

In flashing Ben Ten shoes.

 

So I’ll be the daddy and you be the mum.

Let’s dive in the ball pit, we’ll have so much fun.

And then, all our bricks, dough and paint packed away

We’ll skip off for home at the end of the day.