Autumn sunset on the Kapiti Coast,
star gazing, from the beach house,
driftwood bonfire & guitar strumming,
children dancing & baby (mostly!) sleeping.
Mama sipping champagne,
& eating Belgian chocolates,
Tending to her youngest,
stirring in happy dreams.
Daddy ever patient,
being bossed about.
Master of the party,
torch in hand he tries –
to lead his young fire starters,
under the starlit sky.
I can hear the middle rascal,
trying to call the shots.
I had a moment, signaling,
to my wise, oldest child.
Her torch, like a mirror –
to my phone through window glowing.
We followed each other –
our lights turning, circles in the dark.
We needed no words, to share a moment,
as our hearts sought quiet.
Peace, against, the tide of chatter.
And now my eldest has retreated,
to the quiet of her room.
She strums her guitar,
and sings a quiet tune.
My middle child still talks on,
her Daddy a brick of patience.
I hope quiet dreams find her soon,
and quell her tidal wave of words.
The Pacific Ocean calls my name,
I lie here one year older.
My youngest and, I think, my last,
lies in sleep, surrendered.