THE BIRTHDAY
Bring the birthday-marker!
That's the way to show
How much I've been growing
Since a year ago.
All my last year's dresses
Are too short for me;
This one—with the tucks out—
Only to my knee!
Grandpa rubs his glasses;
Whispers, "Yes, indeed!
How that child is growing—
Growing like a weed!"
Mother's word is sweetest:
"Yes, in sun and shower
She's been growing, growing,
Growing like a flower!"