On Being Three

Escapee garments Strewn hither and yon Some still hanging from the drawers Where neatly they were folded Only hours before She parades the halls And kitchen floor Her catwalk, she the queen And just since eating breakfast It is outfit number seventeen Next comes the swimsuit part of the show Soon will be the gowns Glittering tiaras, feather boas Hot pink shoes…much too big; Look out, she’s falling down Gales of wonderful laughter That only children can manage Picking herself up gracefully and strewing ribbons after Off she goes back down the hall; The castle further to ravage.