She was wearing Wellington boots
With bright stripes of red, black, orange and white
Made for jumping in puddles
And she had found one
A big one
Deep and dark and muddy
Just waiting for her
But her family were in a hurry, already walking away
“Anna, come on, it is time to go!”
Anna did not follow
She was completely enchanted by her study.
Stepping slowly into the deepest spot
She watched the water ripple away from her feet.
She stepped forwards.
More ripples appeared and disappeared.
She turned and kicked at the water.
Thousands of droplets
Showered the path
Leaving black dots shining in the sun.
She was wearing Wellington boots
ReplyDeleteWith bright stripes of red, black, orange and white
Made for jumping in puddles
And she had found one
A big one
Deep and dark and muddy
Just waiting for her
But her family were in a hurry, already walking away
“Anna, come on, it is time to go!”
Anna did not follow
She was completely enchanted by her study.
Stepping slowly into the deepest spot
She watched the water ripple away from her feet.
She stepped forwards.
More ripples appeared and disappeared.
She turned and kicked at the water.
Thousands of droplets
Showered the path
Leaving black dots shining in the sun.
But her family were impatient to be moving on.
“I’ve told you already. We will leave you here if you don’t come now!”
Anna closed her ears.
She was enthralled by her study.
She turned and kicked the other way
Harder
But into the grass so as not to splash the passers by.
Stepped into a second puddle
In the grass
Muddier
Squelching deliciously beneath her stamp
Now one foot, now the other
Sinking and sucking at her boots
She held up her skirt
And ran laughing through the puddle
“Anna!” The voice got louder, angrier,
“Come on this minute!”
Anna looked down at the water.
She was transfixed by its’ secrets.
She turned away from the insistent calling.
A figure came chasing
She ran away, round the edge of the puddle
Just flustering the water all around
He snatched her out of her enquiry
Swung her under his arm
Her wet boots flailing at the sky
Wailing and beating her fists
She is marched away from her puddle
And her joy in learning
In her own time