A Toddler's Moon Poem by Buddy Bee Anthony

Sweet, petite.
She's one spicy, treat.
She thinks I am neat.
she's my toddler.
She gets whatever she wants
or she whines about
what I haven't done for her lately.

I've told her now and before
she's all I need that's for sure
Her eyes penetrate mine deeper
and I get crazed even more
for my toddler.

I'm hooked on her babies blues
she's my front page,
back page,
and breaking news

She's a liar,
a terror
and a four alarm fire
her billowing smoke
takes me higher and higher

Each day, she reminds me to
hedge all my bets
Since, having discovered
she's been
shredding my nets.

She's a curse of a blessing
a burden of bane
she's my best friend forever
and she's criminally insane.

As I've mentioned before
she thinks I am neat
I love how she paints
her tiny fingers and feet.
Running hot and then cold,
meek and then wild.
What else could be expected
from such a woman/child.
My toddler knows how to spin my world
upside down and around.
crawling away
with mine,
yours,
and what's left
of the town.

I'm cross addicted to the
soft, tender, lies
of this saucy, hot,
savory
half baked pie.

I can't help but adore
what my mother and father
would surely abhor.

I've got it real bad for her.
It's a horror unreal
when her terrible twos
falls asleep at my wheel.

She's irresistible
when acting demure.
It's what keeps me
from looking too hard
for the cure

There's little doubt
she's one of a kind
The last lost soul
in this universe
I expected to find.

It feels as if if I've been falling
into a bottomless crevasse
when making chivalrous errors
upsetting this lass

So, don't do as I do
or you too
will be screwed
and fighting for air
which won't come too soon.
in her palace of doom
On the burnt chocolate side
of a toddler's moon.

Buddy Bee Anthony

all rights reserved by author
re-edited 02/02/2024
@ 3: 28 AM Pacific Standard Time