New York, USA
Smudges of dirt on that little face,
Those ringlets now full of sand,
Grass stained knees on the overalls,
A huge worm in the delicate hand.
Big eyes as clear as crystal pools,
While describing the trap she'd set,
Pausing to catch another breath,
Before she gave a name to this pet!
Now she's off to the swing set,
Spinning clumsily around on the bar,
Her pudgy legs flailing away,
This tiny gymnastics star.
Oh to keep the clock from ticking on,
To stop the hands from going round,
To keep this child as she is right now,
Her laughter a most precious sound.
But time, it will go marching on,
And as she should, this child will grow,
It's the memories of these moments,
That will help when it's time to let go.