A Surprise Pebble

Dad said he had a surprise for me
at tea, something special he'd found.
I suppose I'll have to eat my veg first.
"Here," he says and passes me a pebble.

Pebbles remind me of ice-creams
by the sea. When they're dry, they're
boring. Paint-markers are brilliant
and the stone holds the colours.

I turn it over. "Looks just like our
cat," says Dad. It does. She's ginger.
I had to mix yellow with orange
to get the right colour. I hid it

by the rockery, to keep it safe.
"There's talent in that," Mum agrees.
I hold the pebble, cover my drawing
with my hand. "It's yours isn't it?"