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Music Button RIGHT click to stop,pause,play Please view all pages at full screen. From the Joy Light Poetry Series Childhood Series I like talking to my dressing room mirror. The person their always understands me. Just Let Me Be A Little Girl Just let me be a little girl, Playing games of chance, Dressed up in banana curls, Not giving life a second glance. Climbing trees and monkey bars, Or prancing through the grass, With lightening bugs in mustard jars, Flickering through the glass. Building houses rich in lore, From twigs and fallen leaves, In beds of maple color, Finding mirrors of make believe. Making angelwings to show, My snowman with no eyes, Eating ice cream made from snow, In dishes made for pies. Picking tulips still in birth, Planting pea and radish seeds, In rows of fresh turned mother earth, On patched and scratched up knees. Just let me be a little girl, With dreams of what to be, So when I grow up I'll know, What it's like to just be me. Copyright (c), Joy Light, 1985 Please sign my Guest Book Joy Light Center All Rights Reserved 1961 - 2004 Copyright is retained by the author. Use of these works for commercial purpose is strictly prohibited. Reproduction of these works for any purpose without permission from the author is strictly prohibited. The Joy Light Poetry Series is a published work of art. Contact the author for permission to use. Sets by Designer Originals Music Credits: Orinoco Flow by Enya Music plays automatically in AOL browser. To play music in other browsers, right click music button, then play.
Please view all pages at full screen. From the Joy Light Poetry Series Childhood Series I like talking to my dressing room mirror. The person their always understands me.
Just Let Me Be A Little Girl Just let me be a little girl, Playing games of chance, Dressed up in banana curls, Not giving life a second glance. Climbing trees and monkey bars, Or prancing through the grass, With lightening bugs in mustard jars, Flickering through the glass. Building houses rich in lore, From twigs and fallen leaves, In beds of maple color, Finding mirrors of make believe. Making angelwings to show, My snowman with no eyes, Eating ice cream made from snow, In dishes made for pies. Picking tulips still in birth, Planting pea and radish seeds, In rows of fresh turned mother earth, On patched and scratched up knees. Just let me be a little girl, With dreams of what to be, So when I grow up I'll know, What it's like to just be me.
Copyright (c), Joy Light, 1985
Please sign my Guest Book Joy Light Center
All Rights Reserved 1961 - 2004 Copyright is retained by the author. Use of these works for commercial purpose is strictly prohibited. Reproduction of these works for any purpose without permission from the author is strictly prohibited. The Joy Light Poetry Series is a published work of art. Contact the author for permission to use.
Sets by Designer Originals
Music Credits: Orinoco Flow by Enya Music plays automatically in AOL browser. To play music in other browsers, right click music button, then play.
