The Little Lady
She roamed through the flowers, wild and free, With laughter that danced on the breeze like a bee, In her hair were the blossoms, the bright summer’s best, A child of the sun, nature’s own blessed.
With each step she took, the earth seemed to sigh, For she was a joy that the world can’t deny, As butterflies fluttered to bask in her charm, Nature embraced her, recreated, kept warm.
O little lady of nature so pure, With passion for life, forever endure, For your spirit reminds us, as wild as you roam, You are held in the heart of this beautiful home.
- Jack London