Poetry

My Boy and I were headed to the store because I needed to buy some materials for my art lesson for the following day. It had rained earlier in the day and the sun had just peered out through the clouds. As I took My Boy out of his car seat and proceeded to walk through the parking lot, he began looking around...

My Boy:

The sun is beautiful.

The clouds is beautiful.

The leaves are dancing.

No, the tree is dancing.

It's windy.

Me: What are you talking about baby?

My Boy: You like my poem Mama?

Me: Where did you learn that from?

My Boy: Oh, Little Einstein cartoon.

Right about then, my heart smiled. At the age of two, I don't think my Hubster or I were reciting or creating original poetry. I did not know I had a little poet in the making.