Sunday’s castle

Searching, tearing, breaking from sheets,

she jumps and climbs and finds the lap

that she nests and nuzzles each morning,

bringing Lego of green and blue.

A smile breaks on the face of Giant 

as she peers at the cradling Child:

 fidgeting and toying.  With the fumbling hands of Child

 she dives clumsily under the sheets.

 She leaves behind dreary, tender Giant

 dismayed and chilled from her empty lap,

to build a lego palace of blue,

with turrets and flags under the clear morning.

  As walls form, rain pours from Giant’s morning

tea,  dampening the efforts of Child,

now smothered by sky of brown in her castle of blue.

 Peeling back sticky sheets

 whilst guilty thumbs twiddle in the lap

 of naughty, wicked Giant,

 she boldly scolds her for her giant

mess . But with little time to mourn the loss of her white morning,

 she jumps once more, determined, from Giant’s  lap

 and marches on with her grand scheme. Child

builds her world of wondrous sheets,

 sheets now the russet soggy sky to her castle of blue.

A finishing block to be truly encased with her blue

castle away from the watching eyes of Giant,

she dances as Queen of sheets:

 twirling, twisting, singing to the morning.

 So lost in her imaginings as Child

 in the castle hall, far from Giant’s lap.

 Too soon a lap…

se in time knocks aside her world of blue,

 stops her dancing and wipes the smile from Child.

 “Because the hands”, say Giant:

 “point to the end of morning”

 as she peels back the sheets.

 Not cherishing Child before she too becomes Giant,

 too big to nuzzle her lap, she steals away the castle of blue,

and forgets their morning under the sky sheets.