I love of lot of things, a whole lot of things
My cousin comes to visit and you know he’s from the South
‘Cause every word he says just kind of slides out of his mouth
I like the way he whistles and I like the way he walks
But honey, let me tell you that I LOVE the way he talks
I love the way my cousin talks.
Another favorite is one my daughter memorized and recited. I smile each time I think back to her sharing it with me. A few lines from “Way Down In The Music” read:
I get way down in the music
Down inside the music…
Inside the sound of the
Into the tune of Earth, Wind and Fire
Down in the bass where the beat comes from
Down in the horn and down in the drum
I get down
I get down
When my second daughter was old enough, I bought her a copy of her own. Her sister, ten years her senior, made it clear that under no circumstances was she going to share her favorite childhood collection with her sister. She loved her, but sharing this book was asking too much.
My youngest daughter fell in love with the collection, too. And oddly, her favorite is “Way Down In The Music.” She has recited this poem for family and friends on a couple of occasions. My youngest is quite the performer. Her small body had all the theatrics to make this poem even more memorable.
I love the rhythm and the sounds
Sometimes, though, there is no dancing. Her poems about relatives make me sad and happy at the same time. They remind me of those who loved me deeply and whom I miss very much. “Aunt Roberta” was my auntie and I remember my mother’s fine clothes, too. No one’s mother was prettier than my mother.
I invite you to hear the music. Dance with Honey, I Love. It feels almost as good as your mother enfolding you in her arms.