Little Young Lady


 We have a little girl and she’s nearly seven months old,

And we weigh her every Tuesday, and she’s worth her weight in gold!

Though her weight is never quite as much as it really ought to be,

We do not think of quantity, we go for quality!


We sometimes think she’s talking but we don’t know what she says,

I don’t suppose she knows herslf, and yet she spends her days

In murmuring to the flowers and in shouting at the birds,

Or making speeches to her brush without the use of words.


Then when she isn’t talking she will try a yell or two,

Just to liven up proceedings and to see what we will do;

Maybe its a sip of water or a three-course meal she wants,

Or else she’s feeling weary after interviewing aunts.


Her mother says she’s slimming and she must do exercise

To keep the avoirdupois from its threatening to rise;

But when we hear the mattress in its wheezing on her bed

We realise the baby does the exercise instead.


She likes to go out riding in her carriage and pair,

Up the road or down the road, it doesn’t matter where!

But when she’s feeling sleepy she is very far from dumb,

And the row is simply chronic till she’s found her missing thumb!