At four she sits upon
her father's knee
(He won't be leaving her for three more years).
She lets him comfort her, and wipe her tears,
And tell her dizzying stories, quietly.
She lets herself enjoy his magic voice
That tells of growling witches, dancing mice,
And spooky woods, and palaces of ice,
And girls who make the right and truthful choice.
"Remember, love, there's nothing you can't
do,"
He says, and means it. She believes him, too. |