by Sharon M Draper
When I was little
I used to want a Children's Day
like Mother's Day
or Father's Day
But my mother said
that every day
was Children's Day.
I didn't believe her.
Then I wanted a Wife's Day
but my husband said
that every day
was Wife's Day.
I really didn't believe him.
Besides, he said,
I get Valentine's Day
and my birthday
and Christmas too --
and have you seen my keys?
So I decided that a holiday should exist
just for me.
Because I'm worth it --
and Christmas
and Valentine's Day
and Sweetest Day
and Labor Day
and Arbor Day (when is that anyway?)
are just not enough.
I need a day
that lets me sleep
six hours past the alarm --
but when I wake up
rested and refreshed
the glow and the promise of the morning remains
because I like morning.
When I wake the house will be spotless
the kids will be brilliant
and all the bills will be paid.
A check will be in the mailbox
made out to me.
Maybe Publishers'Clearing House
without the cameras.
I'll eat all I want
rich French vanilla ice cream
thick sugar-covered sweet rolls
white chocolate macadamia nut cookies
And still lose ten pounds
In my backyard will be an ocean --
with miles of clean, quiet beach --
because I like the beach.
I'll walk along my beach
and breathe in the freshness
of my private holiday
write poetry
bask in the sunshine
and eat jelly beans
My own celebration
of silence and joy.
from Buttered Bones
Collected poetry by Sharon M Draper
1997
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