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.

Ningning

Like a sparrow on the ground,

She would hop and skip around;

Snugly seated on a mound,

She'd fondle a bug she found.

With her hand,she'd scoop the brook,

Wearing an innocent look;

She'd bathe the turtle she took,

From her big brother Noknok.

While the sun peeps in the east,

And the sky, hazy with mist,

Field of buds,her eyes would feast,

Then dance on tiptoe in the midst.

She keeps very secretly,

In a pouch tucked too tightly,

Lizards' cut tails,two or three,

Talisman,to win each play.

Of earthworms,you cannot scare,

She'll just stick her tongue and glare;

But,with spiders,in great fear,

Will suddenly disappear.

She'll run home when the rain drops,

And twilight shrouds the hilltops;

She'd wonder where the wind stops,

And ask why the pea pod pops.

When at the porch she would lie,

And watch the night melt and die,

She'll slumber till the dawn is nigh,

And the birds at daybreak fly.

Do not wake or even shake her,

Let her dream without falter;

Tomorrow will come after,

Time for her fate to alter.

Childish Wishes

I wish the earth is a garden,
Like the long talked-about Eden;
Where leaves are silver when olden,
And petals turn gold when fallen.

Wish there are fruits in every tree,
So very many as can be;
That no creature must go hungry,
And life is an eternity.

I wish too that every mountain,
With sturdy trees fully-laden;
And merry birds in their haven,
With live tunes the day awaken.

I wish that every human sees,
Wondrous, pretty tiny fairies;
Dance on tiptoe with awesome ease,
To the melody of the breeze.

And wish a child again I were,
Curled on the lap of my father;
Resting my head on his shoulder,
While he strokes my hair so tender.




by: Maria Luisa Tejero Torrento

Noknok

When the earth is dark and calm,
And all the birds are home;
Settled closely on the palm,
Watching the grass owls roam;

A shadow will disappear,
From the door by the rear.
The moon coyly rises up,
And beams over the daisy

Father idly takes his cup,
And snore before the TV;
While his sneaky little lad,
Dips his barefoot in the mud.

Look for him in the meadow,
You'll find in the pond;
Biting a leaf of coco,
With a snail in his hand;

Coax him to hurry to bed,
He'll only shake his head.
He'll come home when Venus burns,
And fall asleep on the stair;

His ankles plastered with ferns,
And dewdrops sit on his hair;
He'll dream of bugs and berries,
Till earth lifts up her chalice.




by: Maria Luisa Tejero Torrento

Genee Marie

She grew up to the rhythm of the waves,
Of the singing winds and the rustling leaves;
She breathed the fragrance of the ocean breeze,
That swept across the sun kissed southern seas;

For her home stood by the sand-laden shore,
With talisay canopy by its door.
She may journey far but will not forget,
How the prickly sand grains with dewdrops wet;

Clutched at her soft little feet as she rolled,
Over the earth with gray carpets unfurled;
And there, the briefest hour went winging through,
With smell of seaweeds on her sole and toe.

She will always vividly remember,
The cold August morns when rain drenched her hair;
The scent of shells she picked and kept so well,
And all the things to which she bade farewell;

When on that fair June day she took her leave,
With youth's memories clinging to her sleeve





by: Maria Luisa Tejero Torrento

Dress The Girls

Color young girls face pink and rosy,
Make them look sweet fourteen, and not forty;
Don't wrap them in the robe of their mommy,
Garb them in pastels of cream or peachy.

Let them wear their long hair soft and bouncy,
Windblown and adorned with something dainty,
Like a band, ribbon or flower so gay,
Not a hairdo that looks stiff and sticky.

Make them look fresh, huggable and carefree,
In looking mature, there is no hurry;
When it comes soon, you'll truly sorry,
So dress the young girls the way they should be.




by: Maria Luisa Tejero Torrento