The winter days are dreary, cold,
’til Sunshine comes to stay,
and she asks, so sweetly, kindly,
“Hey Grammy, will you play?”

We crawl into our hideaway
of blankets, couch, and chairs,
then choose whom we are hiding from –
fierce pirates, hungry bears.

When we imagine they’ve come close,
we giggle, unafraid
to let them know that we are here,
secure in what we’ve made.

She brings a book for us to read
but then we tell our own
stories of exciting days, of
adventures we have known.

Our temporary hideaway
helps shelter us from fear,
providing space for us to dream
new stories we’ll hold dear.

As Sunshine later heads for home,
blankets are put away,
I tuck these moments in my heart
to bless another day.

And God, you are my hideaway,
both mobile yet steadfast;
my refuge from the daily storms,
my fortress that will last.

I too, can shelter in your love
and, putting fears behind,
can dream a new unscripted tale –
the one you have in mind.

(Photo by Karen)


  1. This reminds me of a song
    I have not heard, many a day,
    and in my head it comes along,
    yep, Hernando’s Hideaway.
    It was written long ago,
    and I really love the beat,
    that Latin warm slinky tango,
    almost good enough to eat.
    Don’t know why the songs today
    can’t match this classic charm
    that only oldies stations play;
    it really won’t do singers harm
    to lyricise ’bout tropic beach
    instead of gritty urban screech.


%d bloggers like this: