the giggler's
baby index finger tickled
the rotund pot belly,
but the heavy lug slept
out like a rock

but wanting to go outside
the toddler said

again

the wormy finger tips gouging
but
the loafer just a slug,
as a lump on siesta

but precocious kids
don’t giveup
and certainly not this
little wiggly tyke

seeing the sleeper
playing possum
the toddler
jabbed
poking with all the strength,

but the toughguy still didn't budge

then the infant's notetoself-

this killjoy
is a holding me back but
i'm
laughingly alive

pushing with all the life within
shouting

git out of my road you dead lump

cleaving through the granite boulder,
the seed's stem broke through the surface ground
reaching up and stretching out
new giggling green fingers
to greet the sun








4.4 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson