World of dust

Don’t get curious when you’re cleaning.

Hazardous, that, if you get my meaning.

My little brother, he was only eight,

He’s very little, not packing much weight.

On the powerful vacuum so fascinating,

He did some too thorough eye-investigating.

It sucked him right in, with a loud hiss.

When mother came she saw something was amiss.

She looked under the couch and above the refrigerator

She looked high and low, a real investigator.

No sign of little brother, none whatsoever.

A disaster like this, it’s not enough to be clever.

My baby brother now lives among the dust

In a world without a sun. now he must

Find his way out if he is ever able

In the dark, with a stick, a piece of a cable.

Motherly wizardry

I had to buy some maybe-crucial stuff,

But the details on what proved to be a bit tough.

I also had to plan my spring;

Wasn’t exactly the easiest thing.

I had to help a friend in trouble,

And to ascertain I don’t make it double.

All these enigmas bewildered my brain,

A really good idea: a ruminating cane.

Then I remembered, and I grew quite calm,

If I have a question, I can always ask mom!

Mom has a tendency to make stuff easy,

With her wisdom everything’s a breezy.

She helped me choose the stuff that’s vital,

To organize my spring (she even gave it a title!)

My friend’s problem went away in a sec;

Wise advice can avert a train wreck.

What might it be? Magic I guess,

Mommylike wizardry decreases stress.

Whenever life gives me a really tough test,

I know who to ask, whose advice is the best.

She knows how to open every single door,

I’ll need to get wiser, more and more,

So I can help others when my time comes,

When I or them can’t ask our moms.