Batman Lives At My House
Tonka trucks and sticky smiles
books and costumes stacked in piles
sound effects by Tom who’s four
handprints on my kitchen door.
No yearnings for a marble hall
while kicking Dougie’s soccer ball
And ‘loaves of bread and wine in jugs’
were traded off for Ian’s hugs.
I don’t buy trips, or fancy clothes
My money’s gone; to where, who knows?
No diamonds, rubies, gems so fine
I spend it on these boys of mine.
I pass out hugs, and kiss skinned knees
examine bugs, and help climb trees.
I know that I am needed best
when helping Batman to get dressed.
Their eyes are bright, their souls so trusting
I don’t care that my house needs dusting.
Their hearts are full; their minds are fed
by reading when it’s time for bed.
The years will fly before I know
I see it now how fast they grow.
Their memories of childhood
Will be “we played, and it was good”.
© Erin Hilder