My favorite girl.

Seeing you walk through the library door is my symbolic clay;

a little gap-toothed smile and shy wave can make my entire day.

Despite a few bull-in-china-shop tendencies, you, my dear, have my whole heart,

Your love of pets, admirable; your pet voice impersonations, a lost art. 

I love that you “raise the roof” to Nonna from the backseat of the car.

Lightening bugs don’t stand a chance if you’re given a jar.

Dora flannel pajamas are fashionable year ‘round,

and your voice on the phone just may be my very favorite sound. 

You are assuredly a cowgirl, never crying when you fall down.

And you and Mr. or Mrs. Brown Sugar have been spotted downtown.

Nevertheless, a hot pink bow and painted nails also seem completely fitting,

for the little girl perfectly well-rounded, the one NEVER found sitting.

I think you’ll be a storyteller like your Pa, Curtis Lee,

for your spirit and playful humor foreshadow what is to be.

We hang on your words, awaiting the hilarity surly to come,

and in those fanciful eyes, I find inspiration and then some.

So, happy birthday to the precious girl who literally brightens every one of my days,

the niece who makes me better, the one I love more than I can say.

Although I can’t be there to enjoy the corn and pasta you confidently picked out,

I am thinking of you, and missing you, of which you never have to doubt.