Monday, March 28, 2016



She'll smile when she's happy. 
And only when she wants.
Won't do it to please you 
So don't even try. 

When it comes to clothes
She makes the rules. 
Puppy pajama pants
Under a pink taffeta gown.
Her favorite heart tee
With high water leggings. 
"It's my body."
She says with authority. 
"My body. My rules."

 She knows what she's doing in 
two minutes, 
two hours, 
two days.
She knows where she's going,
What she likes
What she doesn't. 
She knows what she wants
And how it should be done. 

That makes her 
Like a boss. 
Like a nag. 

Her hair won't stay in place. 
On a whisper breeze 
Its silky strands 
Cascade over her eyes.
But that's all right with her.
She says, 
"My mama loves me
Messy hair and all!"

She's wary of strangers. 
"Hello" is an lurking monster
And "goodbye" is an attack.  
When someone new is around,
She'll purse her lips 
To stop words from slipping.
For they are gifts
She doesn't give 
To just anyone.

She loves her reflection 
But hates her glasses. 
She adores her dog
And tolerates the cat.
Her princess bike 
Has been replaced with 
A kick-ass skateboard,
And a determined spirit. 

Her hands and knees
Are perpetually skinned. 
Her tongue hangs out
With determination.
Puddle jumping is her 
Favorite activity 
And baths steal time
From her day. 

She's a warrior. 
Fighting poverty 
With cookie sales. 
And bullies with hugs. 
Her kisses 
Pack a punch 
And your down for the count. 

She's quite a gal,
But not society's girl.
You'll never 
put her in your 
Pretty box. 
She might be small,
But I guarantee
she'll never fit.

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