Perched upon my lap, a tiny tyke
With chestnut waves and ebony eyes
And a cherub face like that of little Darla from Our Gang;
Biding quietly, she sips on her apple juice,
Bottle hanging heavy in her weary hand,
The other twirling a tendril of hair;
The telly on full blast,
Looney Tunes, her choice of show,
Her eyes, slumbrous, gaze upon her twinkling toe,
Tapping to that snappy, age-old tune
As she gradually slips into that Saturday morning snooze;
"Buh-thee-uh-buh-thee-uh-buh-thee,
That's all, folks!"

© JLaine