The first year that she was around
Little finger in her mouth
She seemed a soap bubble machine
The second year she carried on
Being charming and along came all
Her endless fantasies
I don’t believe in intelligent design
But somehow she is divine
She became, though a bit shy
An entertainer in disguise
At three she had her fans to please
Then last year she bumped her head
Going up the stairs
And for one night the star was
Mummified
I don’t believe in intelligent design
But she surely is divine
I can give her some advice
Tell her what or not to try
But sometimes good intentions can
Be harsh
Forget inspirational speeches
Like “if you’re eager you can reach
It”
Manuals will never satisfy
You decide
The first year that she was around
Was a ride but just a start
I can’t tell her what’s ahead
Only that I’ll have her back