I Met a Little Girl

Once I met a little girl Sweeter than honey could be, She must have been barely eight But looked much younger to me. She asked with a dimpled smile If a picture I could draw, Her eyes shone with a strange light In them happiness I saw. Not to let her mirth astray I took her pencil in hand, She gave me her picture book Then I sat with her and planned. Knew not what to draw for her But was keen for something nice, Though I am no artist great So I thought over it twice. ‘Tell me what you wish of me Do tell me my little queen? Should I draw the sea and sky Or some distant hillock green?’ ‘Would you like a hilltop house Or prefer the birds and bees? I could draw a pretty bloom In a garden lined with trees.’ She shook her pony-tailed head And said to draw what I like, Her words made me ponder hard To rummage into my psyche. Was hoping against my hope That I could fulfil her will, So I set upon my task And I set down all my skill. Etched the outlines of a lea With mountains reaching a height, Drew a boat amidst a lake And a skein of geese in flight. Then I drew a rising sun Some homesteads near the shore, ‘Twas the best could do for her I knew I could do no more. Saw her face her limpid eyes They were brimmed with joy and glee, I felt she liked what I drew For with a kiss she thanked me. The she sat and coloured it So its beauty I could see, Was spellbound watching her paint As happy as I could be. Then I mused life too lets us Etch thoughts on its canvas white, Then fills it with colours fine To make a beauteous sight. We ought to have faith on life With the passion of a child, Like they do with jocund hearts Care not of being beguiled. ***********