A Beautiful Thought--Amaya

A beautiful thought
is a stream that trickles down
and there's flowers all around.
The bees hum in your ears,
and you run your fingers through the water.
The birds sing.
The grass is green
and the trees make a gentle breeze.
The plants green with laughter
your head is refreshed with memories
from when you were a kid.
When your mom made you wash your face in the stream,
and she made you fresh cookies,
and you shared them with your friend.

A kid's view . . .
I'm at the stream and I'm washing my face in the stream.
The nice cool water as clear as plain glass.
I run my hands under the water.
I feel the little rocks that line the bottom
with nice smooth moss.

And then I hear my mom call me.
She said, "fresh cookies,
and your friend is coming over."

My head springs up-
the little strings of hair that weren't in my bun flang back,
making a mist and dripping.

As I enter the house,
the smell of baking cookies fills the whole house
and even the bathroom.
I hear the doorbell ring.
I run to answer -
it was my friend.

We say bye to her mom,
we shut the door.
We run down the hall into the kitchen.
We grab a cookie.
My mom says wash your hands-
but we were already out the door.
She did a sigh.

We went to my swing
and ate our cookies.
And then we went inside
and played hide-and-seek
and had another cookie or so.