Pitter, Pitter, Pat
I can still hear the sounds of her tiny little feet,
going Pitter,Pitter, Pat;
As my skips a beat...
The smile upon her face,
with that puppy she embraced;
A struggling little angel,
as she walks along in place...
Pitter, Pitter, Pat;
Come her tiny little feet,
as she runs into the bedroom,
just to check on me...
with her little hand in mine, and a big smile on her face;
"This won't very hurt" she say's,
While she's tapping on my knee...
The Beauty in her heart, an innocence so redeemed;
Replaces all the darkness and ugly I have seen...
Pitter, Pitter, pat:
A distant sound you see;
Although she's gotten older,
Just the way she look's at me;
As if I, were worth her Beauty, smiles, and all her precious dreams...
Pitter, Pitter, pat:
My heart still skips a beat;
I've found an innocence so long ago lost;
In this little child smiling up at me...
Pitter, Pitter, Pat, as she jumps into my lap;
She'll soon be grown and on her own,
Just a memory this will be;
As I happily reminisce of the sound so sweet to me,
the Pitter, Pitter, Pat;
Of her tiny little feet...
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
