collecting in

gifts from little people

given in small unfurling hands,

special things they have found.

presented with big eyes, big heart, big smile

and a tilted head.

for you mama! i found it for you...

pulling me away from whatever to now

where i see what sweet babies they are, the pleasers, the heart melters, the impish little dreamers, the treasure gatherers.

perhaps having found these things, they don't know what else to do with them, but can't bring themselves to throw them away.

the innocence, the magic, the notion that the treasure found them first.

the mother acting as custodian of precious collections.

sometimes it is just because their pockets are uncomfortably full

and they still want for more

...lumps of smooth brick, broken glass bottles and smashed crockery

worn smooth by the waves, the salt and the tide.

my hair is filled with daisies, weeds behind my ears,

around my feet a circle of stones and oddly shaped bark and all manner of organic and inorganic matter,

my handbag sandy with shells and feathers and bottle tops and brightly coloured plastics.

still, i won't diminish the gesture of having given them to me

and i choose my moment to let them fall away, or add them to the garden or into a bowl on the bench for a while longer

...a little gesture of gratitude given back.