Current mood:

indescribable

Bad Fairy Blessing
I wish for you not more happiness than you can compass
but a serviceable content spreading like sunlight,
like buttery white wine. I wish you ripe pears in hanging baskets,
an orderly kitchen, open shelves stacked high with clean crockery,
ironed sheets. I wish you songs to match your mood on the radio,
with words you can always remember, but not at inconvenient times.
I wish you skin rich like cool milk in summer, like strong tea in winter.
The adaptable pleasures of the suitable be yours, now and always.
May the right moment come for you and lift you up,
carry you, victorious, on its shoulders like a coach or a conquering hero
and set you down gently on your own broad doorstep
where a smooth voiced woman in a cream silk blouse
says "dinner’s just ready, come in,"
and with closed, full lips, kisses your cheek.
I wish you laurels that bloom when expected, neither too late nor too soon.
I wish you lilacs that wait for the weekend, snow at Christmas and children, too,
in their season. May they have her grace and your wit and love wisely,
and graduate summa cum laude, and come smiling to you in the summer houses,
bearing flowers and grandchildren and your name.