Dear little lad I nanny,

I’m afraid without you I wouldn’t call moss the rocks’ blanket or say things like “the Snail King of Snottingham wants his slime back” when seeing a runny nose. The plastic pans from the play kitchen wouldn’t be pirate hats, drains on the street wouldn’t be for stomping on, and mushrooms wouldn’t be scary. I wouldn’t have anyone to race to the “sunshine spots” on cold, winter walks or anyone to ask if we could pray for God to help us find the Harry Dog book. And who would I take to my secret spot when you’re the only one who has sat with me beneath my quiet, ancient Watching Tree?

I’m afraid without you, little lad, my world would lose half of its poetry. 🤎