My little girl

My little girl adores her dresses.
Though she’s no priss,
cause she loves messes.
Such as making thick mud pies
or rubbing crayons round her eyes.

Yet when she’s clean and
smelling sweet, she begs me
to paint her nails so neat.
And will I fix her hair with bows?
Maybe even paint her toes.

For more poems from the book click here.