Poems by Sylvia Stults

Yesterday morning I opened my hands
I thought with a smile the places they've been
Building sand castles and catching fireflies
Nature was best, that's where happiness lies

Picking up seashells, or gathering stones
Flat ones were best for skipping when thrown
The pond would then ripple as countdown began
Four, five...Ya, I beat you again

Grabbing a rope that swings from a tree
Landing with a splash, letting go, count of three
Holding a stick for a marshmallow roast
Or filling pie irons, the crust made of toast

The lesson I learned was put down your phone
Create the memories your hands have shone
Appreciation will be felt for all of earth's lands
As your child grows older, looking down at their hands