Rosemary Smith is a slip of a girl
With thick brown hair that just won’t curl.
And eyes a shade of darkest blue
That stare disarmingly out at you.
Rosemary Smith has restless feet
And won’t stay seated on her seat.
Her fragile body wants to dance
And moves around at every chance.
Rosemary Smith can’t help but twirl
Because she is a special girl.
She finds delight in unusual things
Straws and shadows and butterfly wings.
Rosemary Smith watches the world go by
As she whirls about beneath the sky
Laughing in her secretive way
While lost music begins to play.
Rosemary Smith can bring such joy
As she dances for each girl and boy
Grabbing a stick or holding a straw.
Dear sweet child holds us in awe.
Linda Hurdwell has been a widow for 5 years. She has two adult sons. Living in the English countryside, she takes her dog, Bessie, for a daily walks and that's where many of her poems and stories are born. She has always loved writing and has a few short stories published. Although now a pensioner, she enjoys working with adults with learning disabilities and running a mencap social club once a week. Her hobbies are writing, tap dancing, and going to the theatre or cinema with my friends.