Niece

My niece, a spark of bright delight,
With laughter soft as summer’s sigh,
She dances through the garden light,
Her eyes alight with curious sky.

She gathers daisies in her hand,
A tiny posy, fragrant, sweet,
And shares her treasures with the band
Of worms that wiggle ’neath her feet.

When rain drums gentle on the pane,
She watches puddles form and gleam,
Then jumps in boots, dispelling pain,
Living each moment like a dream.

Her voice, a lilting, merry tune,
Floats down the lane like wind‑kissed chime,
A precious gift, a fragile boon—
My niece, the sunshine of my time.