A poem by Melpomene about her son.
Plastic boats and rubber ducks
Awash in a sea of suds,
Waves and eddies swirling round
Along a porcelain shore.
Soapy clouds adorn a sky
Of green-glazed tiles and grout
While whales and fishes dot the surf
And bottles line the beach.
No messages from shipwrecked souls
Nor Lorelei to sing
Among the wonders of the deep
And terror of these seas.
A hand is passed through snow-white mounds
And lo! a cloud is born
And just as easily wiped away
By hands once grimy but now quite clean.
A chuckle echoes through the air
With the splash of careless waves
Answered by a voice from far away,
“Keep the water in the tub, not on the floor.”
And a smiling face peers round the door
To spy his whole creation.
“Come now, Tryst, it’s time for bed,
you can bathe again tomorrow.”