At eighteen months, I was too young
For such a fragile dolly.
I received her on my second Christmas
My indulgent parents’ folly.
I don’t remember getting “Nelly”.
She just had always been there.
She’d sit so quietly in my lap
As I rocked in my rocking chair.
She had big, blue, sleeping eyes,
And was dressed in silk and lace.
Brown curls...
Continue reading...