Strong Storming Gracious Girls

(Granddaughter and her Mom)

She is a hurricane,

if a hurricane was a good thing,

90 miles per hour

until the calm of her short nap,

then 90 again

until her day ends.

Joy embodied,

imaginative and creative,

a blustery boisterous bountiful energy

exploding everywhere she bounds.

Her mother, a pleasant breeze (busy living,

working, playing, doing, never still),

until unfairness interrupts.

Then she is a tornado,

a supercell's whirlwind of

focused fierce avenging fury,

until the solution is found.

Get out of her way,

or be knocked down.

As abruptly as she started,

abates the gale.

The clouds are parted,

pleasant breeze prevails.

by:  Paula D. Nevison