The Daisy Chain
She skipped down the lane, in her silken, pink dress,
Quietly humming, her smile, effortless.
A spirit of innocence, as nature intends,
Her days full of wonder, where time never ends.
The noonday sun mirrored, on golden brown hair,
Ribbon-tied ringlets held high, in midair.
In rhythm, they bounced with her large, pink frock bow,
The crafted, bright flowers of the skirt, hung below.
