Tell Me When I'm Eight

I never know who or what will provide the inspiration that motivates me to stop and put pen to paper, but once inspired it's usually sudden and complete.  Most of what I write takes thirty minutes from start to finish.  Whether good or bad, very little editing occurs in the actual wording of each piece.  I still question if what I write has any value to anyone besides myself.  I do know I've written verse since I was a very young child.  I always assumed it came as easily to everyone else, but years ago while participating in a writing seminar I learned it didn't.  This next piece was inspired by a friend of mine who was telling me about her grand-daughter.  (My friend does this from time to time.)  The child's mother was trying to explain something to her and apparently was doing so in great detail.  After a few moments, the child piped up and said, "Save the rest until I'm eight."  Something about that caught my ear and soon I was writing the story below.

Tell Me When I’m Eight



Sarah is inquisitive

There’s much she wants to know

She’s asked a lot of questions

And she still has more to go

Swinging with her daddy

In the porch swing late one night

Sarah couldn’t help but wonder

As she watched each twinkling light

Why the evening sky is filled with stars

But when it’s day they’re gone

“I wish whoever turns them off

Would some days leave them on.”

“My dear, the sun too is a star

It shines a powerful light

The other stars are far away

And can’t shine quite as bright.”

“I’m listening, I’m not wiggling

And I’m trying to concentrate

But my brain is overloaded

So, please, tell me when I’m eight.”

One afternoon when Mimi

Had arrived to baby sit

Sarah crawled up in her lap

And she was quiet for a bit

But gathering her courage

She looked Mimi in the eye

And said, “Lately I’ve been wondering

What happens when we die?”
Mimi hugged her tight and said,

“Our spirits go to heaven.”

“That’s all I need to know right now,

Save the rest until I’m seven.”

One sunny summer afternoon

Dad turned the sprinkler on

And in the misty water arced

A rainbow ‘bove the lawn

Sarah naturally was curious

And of course she had to ask

Where did the colors come from

That she saw above the grass

“Sunlight is filled with colors

Every shade and every hue

And the round shape of the raindrop

Refracts the sunlight passing through

Causing all those pretty colors

To appear before your eyes”

“Gee, Dad, you know your science,

I’m convinced you’re really wise,

But that’s awfully complicated

And you’ll have to ‘splain again

‘Cuz I don’t understand at all,

So tell me when I’m ten.”

On Wednesday after school

Grandpa took Sarah for a walk

It gave them time together

And they always liked to talk

About the kind of day she’d had

And what her teacher said

And all the while more questions

Swirled about inside her head


“Why do the leaves change colors?

Will I change colors too?

Aunt Edith’s hair was gray last week

But this week it looks blue.”

“The leaves are filled with chlorophyll

And that’s what makes them green”

“Too much information, Grandpa

Let’s wait ‘til I’m a teen.”

While playing at the park one day

Sarah spied her neighbor

She overheard her mother say,

“She’ll soon go into labor.

She’s going to have a baby

The doctor says that it’s a girl.”

Sarah’s mind was filled with questions

And her thoughts began to swirl

“Just where do babies come from?

How do they fit inside?”

And when she heard the answer

She was totally mystified


Sarah’s questions just keep coming

But, she’ll let you have a turn

Won’t you ask someone a question?

Because that’s the way you learn!