Missy Muppet

Poem about my only granddaughter

There she kneels, hair french-braided,

Drawing on the sidewalk, creativity unaided,

Chalking her feelings into pictures where people walk,

Choosing colors, she carefully talks,

No affectation, a child from God.

And right beside her, her dollies nod,

Understanding her need to express in art

Those things for which words escape her.

The rain will fall and soak the pictures into cement

And carry them from there into God's good earth,

Where Missy Muppet and all her deepest feelings,

Will mesh into nature with no adults drugged and reeling

To frighten Missy Muppet into the need for dealing

With all her terrors...and she armed only

With colored chalk, cement, and the God given wisdom

of an unpolluted child.