The hour of celebration

By

the clock ticks to three

the hour of celebration

my mother squeals in delight

everything is planned

fun must be measured

but my smile submits to no schedule 

I prefer to make it up

run the line between time and dreams

spontaneity in my veins

I am a rolling ball

do not hold me tight

tell me when I can spin down and down

giggles follow my descent

no, it is my mother with my cake

Illustration by Rosie Bromiley

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