Little Pee

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My Little granddaughter

Little Pee

Two little teeth a big wide smile
Big blue eyes what a child
Clapping hands and making sounds
Bottom in the air as she crawls around

Picking up anything she can find 
In to her mouth to crunch and grind
Pulling her self up now to stand
Smiling proudly because she can
She cant sit but wants to climb

Of my knee every time
She's a handful I will let you know
But I miss her when its time to go
She's back tomorrow for more fun
I have lots to pick up so I must run

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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

honeypot’s Poems (62)

Title Comments
Title Comments
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My Magic Carpet 0
October Time 0
Suddenly in Time 0
He Inspires me 0
The Rainbow 0
Robbie the Tabby 0
Unending Love 0
Why Hate 0
Living under the Hill 0
Will these Feet ever Dance 0
The Place in my Head 0
Little one 0
Dear Dairy 0
Winter Time 0
Another Year 0
The Life of a mum 1
I Had a Sister 0
A Beautiful Light House 1
Lord of our Time 0
Reign on Me 0
How it all Belong 0
I Remember You 1
In the Darkness 0
The Worst Day 2
Just a Picture 0
What is Joy 0
A Shame and Disgrace 1
The First Gift 1
Six Years Now 2
The Bride Awaits 0
Dont Be Unkind 1
Angels Dressed in Blue 0
Happy Birthday Jesus 0
No More Snow 0
My Star 1
When Autumn come around 0
Our Trip 0
The Poppies in the field 0
A Haunted Night 0
A little old Lady 0
Little Pee 0
God 1
The Cross 1
Beautiful Butterfly 1
My sweet Rose 0
Don.t be afraid to dream 1
This place is so peaceful 1
Not A Word 1
The Best Gift of all 0
The Autumn of my Life 0
A Time to Remember 0
My Little bit of Ireland 1
Death 1
The Demon Drink 0
The Weight on my mind 0
Thinking About You 0
The Man of God 0
One More Chance 0
The Killer 0
Just Gray steel Walls 0
Forty Years 2