We don’t take on rhyming schemes often (ever) in our bedtime stories but The Eldest wanted something about the season of Sinter (a winter/summer combination she thought up) and I thought now was as good a time as any to give it a try.
“Sinter is coming,” the mouse told the rat.
“Can that be true?” the rat then asked that.
“It’s in the air I can feel it now.”
“It might be true, but I can’t see how.”
The mouse then stood still, not sure what to say.
The rat paced anxiously as the sky turned grey.
“Every year at this time the nights start to get cold.
But days stay warm because the summer’s not old.”
“That’s true,” said the rat, “but Sinter’s not a season.
You can’t say it’s coming, there’s simply no reason.”
The mouse looked sad, he had heard this before,
He’d talk about Sinter and the others would snore.
But the rat looked intrigued, like he wanted to learn,
So again started mouse, he’d take at least one more turn.
“Sinter, dear rat is a time like no other,
That I learned years ago, from my dear mother.
It’s that great time of the year when the unicorns fly,
When the giants throw boulders up into the sky.
It’s when stars in the sky twinkle brighter than ever,
And the creatures of the ocean don’t know the word never.
It’s when all kids stay up all night long in their beds,
Those visions of sugarpulms still dancing in heads.
It’s a season we see when we’re all just a child,
But as we grow up, our love for it grows mild.
It’s a magical season that no one should miss,
The right kind of moment that fills you with bliss.”
“I had no idea,” the rat said then turned quiet.
The mouse waited to see if his new friend would buy it.
“You say it’s a season of which few have ever heard,
Except for a unicorn who flies like a bird.
A season in which you say magic is strong,
But that disappears quickly for those who wait long.
I’d like to believe it dear mouse, I would,
I’d like to believe it if my little brain could.”
“It doesn’t take much,” the mouse said sounding fun,
Just think like a kid, like a daughter or son.
Their minds know no limits, the best of minds don’t,
But some times the adult ones say “will not” or “won’t.”
Just think like a kid and I promise Sinter you’ll find.
And once you do have it, it won’t leave your mind.”
The rat left the mouse, with a new way of thinking:
I’ll believe what I want, without even blinking.
2 responses to “Sinter, the magical season when unicorns fly”