A Twinkle In Her Eye

Precocious little Anne Marie; On the morning she turned three; While sitting boldly upon my knee; Smiled brightly and asked of me; “What does twinkle mean?” “Aah” Said I. “Umm” Said I. “What does twinkle mean you say?” “Yes!” “You know like twinkle, twinkle little star.” “Grandpa says I have a twinkle in my eye; But I don’t know what, and I don’t know why.” Now Anne Marie had just turned three; And I’m sure you’ll all understand me; When twinkle to define, I did try; It ended in an endless series of: “But why?” So, I sent her off to birthday play; She and her friends had a raucous day. Later that evening after we’d all been fed; And just before it was time for bed; Anne Marie, her mom, and I Went out to view the night sky. We found Sirius, bold and bright; The North Star still shining its light; We found dippers big and small; Ann Marie sat transfixed by it all. This was how we ended her day; Sitting and gazing at the milky way; Precocious little Anne Marie; On the evening she turned three; While sitting boldly upon my knee; Yawned sweetly and said, “Now I see.” Then cuddled up against my cheek, And promptly fell fast asleep.