Short and sweet today. I have major computer problems on BOTH computers. It’s driving me insane and has me resorting to doing some sewing (fixing up all the hideous fashion tragedies of 2012, so I have something half decent to wear!)
I came across this among all the bits and pieces of “things” that I save.
My daughter (now 16) wrote this poem about me when she was six.
Oh you are so beautiful
Your hair is like trees blowing in the wind
Your eyes are like appl piss (pies?)
Your knees are beautiful as turtle shells
I have never ever thought of knees being beautiful, let alone like “turtle shells’. (Maybe mine needed a bit of moisturizing at the time?)
I sometimes wonder if this child see’s the world as though she is on drugs.
When she was seven she danced in front of me up the street where I was walking with my camera and said “Take a picture of my imagination!”
What the heck would I see?