When you were just a little girl
of maybe years of three.
Close by you'd come, and shyly ask,
to sit upon my knee.
You'd "ride the horsey", 'til I tired,
(you never did, yourself)
then snuggle close against my chest,
just like a tiny elf.
I'd tell you stories, sing you songs,
then stroke your sungold curls...
while marv'ling at your dimpled cheeks -
and tiny teeth - like pearls.
An evening's tender moments spent
would fill your pretty head...
with nonsense rhymes and silly things,
'fore off you went, to bed.
I'd tuck you in so tenderly
and listen to your prayers,
while you would curl and snuggle down,
through all the cover's layers.
A kiss you'd beg - a hug, as well,
before I turned the light.
Once more to stall the evening's hour
- and then - a last good night!
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