With this Pen In Hand

I’m looking at this pen,
I’m holding in my hand,
I hope words will come to me,
A few you can understand.
For most I write are words of love,
And some that have failed too,
So as I sit here wondering,
I’d like to write of something new.

I could write about the fairies,
My mom told me about so long ago,
She told me they were good ones,
And they often put on a show,
They danced around on tip- toe,
All dressed in lace and glow,
They always seem to sparkle,
To look their best where ever they’d go.

I remember once she told me,
I was her morning delight,
For I always got up smiling,
As others thought that wasn’t right.
I’d come downstairs singing,
For I too put on a show,
As I’d pass out morning kisses,
before off to school I’d go.

Things haven’t changed much since then,
For I still get up with that same smile,
Ok, maybe I don’t dance around,
 I still sing as though I were still that child.
Yes I have aged a bit since then,
When Mom shared these words with me,
But I’m not to old to share that smile,
And still sing happily