Mother’s Smile There never was a fonder smile than mother’s smile, no softer touch than mother’s touch. So sleep awhile and know she loves you more than “much.”   So more than “much,” much more than “all.” Though tender words, these do not speak of love at all, nor how we fall and mother’s there, nor how we reach   from nightmares in the ticking night and she is there to hold us tight.   There never was a stronger back than father’s back, that held our weight and lifted us (we heard it crack!) and bore us till we reached the gate,   then held our hands that first bright mile till we could run, and did, and flew. But, oh, a mother’s tender smile will leap and follow after you.

Will there be Starlight? Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers damask and lilac and sweet-scented heathers?   And will she find flowers, or will she find thorns guarding the petals of roses unborn?   Will there be moonlight tonight while she gathers seashells and mussels and albatross feathers?   And will she find treasure or will she find pain at the end of this rainbow of moonlight on rain?

The Desk There is a child I used to know who sat, perhaps, at this same desk where you sit now, and made a mess of things sometimes. I wonder how he learned at all . . .   He saw T-Rexes down the hall and dreamed of trains and cars and wrecks. He dribbled phantom basketballs, shot spitwads at his schoolmates’ necks. He played with pasty Elmer’s glue (and sometimes got the glue on you!). He earned the nickname–'teacher’s PEST.' His mother had to come to school because he broke the golden rule. He dreaded each and every test.   But something happened in the fall– he grew up big and straight and tall, and now his desk is far too small; so you can have it. One thing, though– one swirling autumn, one bright snow, one gooey tube of Elmer’s glue . . . and you’ll outgrow this old desk, too.

True Story Jeremy hit the ball today, over the fence and far away. So very, very far away a neighbor had to toss it back. (She thought it was an air attack!)   Jeremy hit the ball so hard it flew across his neighbor’s yard. So very hard across her yard the bat that boomed a mighty 'THWACK!' now shows an eensy-teensy crack.

The First Christmas It was a land so long ago . . . the lambs lay blanketed in snow and little children everywhere sat and watched warm embers glow and dreamed (of what, we do not know).   And THEN–a star appeared on high, The brightest man had ever seen! It made the children whisper low in puzzled awe (what did it mean?). It made the wooly lambkins cry.   And far away a new-born lay warm-blanketed in straw and hay, a lowly manger for his crib. The cattle mooed, distraught and low, to see the child. They did not know that it was Christmas day.

More poems plus by Mike Burch are at http://thehypertexts.com