Poems By a Little Girl

I have a dream for you, Mother, Like a soft thick fringe to hide your eyes. I have a surprise for you, Mother, Shaped like a strange butterfly. I have found a way of thinking To make you happy; I have made a song and a poem All twisted into one. If I sing, you listen; If I think, you know. I have a secret from everybody in the world full of people But I cannot always remember how it goes; It is a song For you, Mother, With a curl of cloud and a feather of blue And a mist Blowing along the sky. If I sing it some day, under my voice, Will it make you happy?
Thanks are due to the editors of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, The Delineator, Good Housekeeping, The Lyric, St. Nicholas, and Contemporary Verse for their courteous permission to reprint many of the following poems.
A book which needs to be written is one dealing with the childhood of authors. It would be not only interesting, but instructive; not merely profitable in a general way, but practical in a particular. We might hope, in reading it, to gain some sort of knowledge as to what environments and conditions are most conducive to the growth of the creative faculty. We might even learn how not to strangle this rare faculty in its early years.
At this moment I am faced with a difficult task, for here is an author and her childhood in a most unusual position; these two conditions—that of being an author, and that of being a child—appear simultaneously, instead of in the due order to which we are accustomed. For I wish at the outset to state, and emphatically, that it is poetry, the stuff and essence of poetry, which this book contains. I know of no other instance in which such really beautiful poetry has been written by a child; but, confronted with so unwonted a state of things, two questions obtrude themselves: how far has the condition of childhood been impaired by, not only the possession, but the expression, of the gift of writing; how far has the condition of authorship (at least in its more mature state still to come) been hampered by this early leap into the light?