Poetry 7

In the children's section of the library I once found a book of poetry called I Gave My Mom a Castle. Each poem is like a little snapshot of a child's feelings. Here's one of my favorites.


The Bulb
by Jean Little

I am the fourth daughter in my family.
They kept trying for a boy.
Since I was born on my gran's birthday,
They asked her to name me.
I used to wish they hadn't.

Most people call me Mary,
And I never used to correct them.

When Gran turned ninety and I turned nine,
She sent me a mysterious box.
It had nothing written on it, and inside it
Was this big brown ugly bulb.
Mother gave me the letter that had come with it.
"This is you," it said.
"Follow the instructions below and
You will see yourself growing up into a woman."

I was kind of mad, if you want to know.
What a terrible present!
But Mom made sure I did what Gran said.
Nothing happened for ages.

Then out of the top, which stuck out of the dirt,
Sprouted a fat green shoot.
I guessed that must be me starting to grow.
Then I turned into a tall, gangly teenager.
I kind of got interested.
There were lots of buds.

Finally, overnight almost,
The thing burst into enormous flowers.
They glowed.
I've never seen anything like them.
Wow!

Now I correct people sometimes.
"My name's not really Mary," I say.
"It's Amaryllis."