I Am From Muddy Play Clothes

I am from pencils and paper,
Faber Castell and Daler Rowney.
I am from the big stone house
by the white cotton field.
I am from the tall evergreen trees,
the sticky yellow sap that sits on your fingertips.
I am from birthdays and homemade cakes,
with Elizabeth and Frances,
covered in silky soft icing.
I am from knives and forks,
sitting up strait and acting proper.
From occasionally going to church
in muddy play clothes on sunny Sunday mornings.
From looking for the purple monsters under the bed
and believing that sprinkles were made out of waxy crayons.
I’m from the sun in Malaysia and the bitter wind in Britain.
From hot Sunday dinners
and tasting food before it was ready.
From the big custom made bed—
the one that everyone sleeps in together.
The one that we jump on, the one that we hide under.
I am from the dusty pictures
I’m from blue eyes and strait hair,
white skin and lovely voices.
From the tree that grows in my family’s heart.