To Thank A Mentor
Late at night, when the bugs are out,
And the snores haunt the hallways round and about,
A little girl sits contemplating a word to fit,
To finish a letter of admit.
This would seem rather strange enough,
For little girls now, dream of fairies and stuff.
Tucked tight into slumber, in a snowflake bed,
To wake in the morning-so it is said.