Where dost thou go, little French girl, so tiny, so sweet?
Perhaps to the market, little leather boots, tiny little feet,
I see her curly hair, her mama's pride and joy,
Running to and fro, holding Teddy, her very favorite toy.
Stopping to smell the violets in Madam LeFleur's garden,
Sun shining, a vision for sure,
Eight years old, a kind heart full and pure.
Still playing with dollies, still hugs for Mama and Papa,
Why are there raindrops, perhaps they are tears?
A child's angst, a child's fears?
In a moment gone, Simone laughs, and laughs again,
Not to worry, Mama will make it right,
Papa sweet Papa, will chase scary things, that come in the night.
Little sister waits at home, for playtime, and something sweet,
A beautiful soul, waiting at the window, blessed be,
She waves when she sees Simone, and that for sure, is me.
Quick, quick, unwrap the little pies,
Run to the garden, lemonade there,
Giggle between them, they pause, look to the sky.
Life is at its best, perfect unbounded happy,
Not to worry, all is well,
As if angel dust has fallen, a beautiful special spell.
All this stored away, secrets between two sisters,
To buffer life's burdens through the years,
Mama, Papa, gone now, Simone can't fix that,
But your older sister will make it better, I will dry your tears.
Share This Poem