Gigi

Little feet, nimble and light,

Tread the meadow, green and bright,

In mincing steps as in flight,

To evade swiftly the sight.

Then, she would pluck the flowers,

And say, they were her father's;

Frolicking as she gathers,

Under the monsoon showers.

She would tell the whole story,

"The Turtle and the Monkey",

In one long sentence only,

Then,she'd chuckle happily.

Press her on her fat belly,

She would sing readily;

But if she's sore and moody,

She will say,"No battery".

Behind the door at the rear,

She'd hide and stick on each ear,

Oyangya seed, red and queer,

And say her earrings cost dear.

She would guard her grandmother,

For the dwarf might gobble her;

She'd draw the hunchback peddler,

And the grave of her grandfather.

She would snuggle quietly,

Because she fears the fairy;

She loved to climb the cherry,

Drooping by the balcony.

Now, they're but a memory,

To reminisce everyday,

For grown-up is the baby,

And has left for somebody.