Poorly Girl

I hate it when you’re ill.
My beautiful bouncing girl becomes
Quiet, sad, subdued and hot.
It’s hard to know how to help.
I fill you with medicines
And tell you stories.
You try to smile for me
But your eyes are so sad.
I scoop you up and cuddle you
And I know you feel safe.
Just as I felt safe in my parents’ arms.
I hope it passes quickly.
I want my noisy fireball back.


This entry was posted in Daily Life, Family, Parent-Child, Parenting, Poems about Children, Relationships and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Poorly Girl

  1. Cheryl-Lynn says:

    Hope she bounces back soon!!


  2. It seems to b part and parcel for little ones to get sick. My grandson had his first birthday last Sunday and his mother told me he received tonsilitis for his birthday.


  3. Somewhere I have a photo of Ken on his second birthday, sitting on the sofa, eyes glazed with fever, clutching his blanket and his bear.


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