The Nicolson Institute: Joanne Macneil

 

 

A Wee Cousin

A small figure,
jumping up and down,
running faster and faster.
She knows she's going to the park.

I hear her,
her laugh so merry,
your heart warms inside.

Her smell,
perfume.
My perfume.
Her guilty smile showing the evidence and pride.

Her soft blonde locks,
her smooth and warm hands,
it is a delightful feeling.

The chocolate on her face,
the gleaming smile that shows it was yummy and magical.

A wee petal...
A large bundle of joy...
She walks out of the door to go to the park.


by Joanne Macneil