I’m not sure if these pleasures are small
As the joys they give me scream for more
It began with some ‘mischief’ from my son
And the innocent look that says “I’m sorry Mum”
To his light feathery kiss that caps it all
And the step back with a look that asks, “Do you want more?”
It’s the squeal of delight from a delicious bite
As the jam blends in with the sausages
Making every inch of the pancake just right
A stomach filled and hunger assuaged
Pleasures that soar in differing height
From things and people of all ages.
© 2014 Frances Kelvin Otung. All rights reserved.