A pretty little princess, twirling barefoot through mud.
She fusses about messy fingers while melting popsicles drips off her round baby chin.
Her hair is always dressed in bows or running freely along with the wind.
She giggles like the summer birds and I swear makes lightening bugs glow brighter.
She wraps herself in pink blankets and buries under piles of baby dolls to sleep.
A song follows her until her way is impeded by a big brother or another opposing force and then her tears melt the whole world.
She is our Bitsy; our bossy, dancing, singing princess.
Our bit of pink God gifted our family with and we are smitten.
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