The little girl likes Mallard ducks
She likes Canadian geese
I crush the dog food with my boot
She rushes to pick up every piece
I have to run to catch her
As she dashes in front of a car
she's so intent on the pond
That she can only see that far
I take her little hand
A little angel so pure
She loves feeding the ducks
of this I'm sure
The passersby stop and smile
at her seriousness and delight
and me to keep from laughing
try with all my might
She loves to watch them scamper
as each little piece she deliberately throws
She giggles as they spot the morsals on the water
then strain to reach them with paddles and rows
Just as I'm thinking: This feels so much like peace...
She jumps behind me for protection
My little grandaughter loves me
But I think she's secretly afraid of geese
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem