Classic Poem

She tilts her face and smiles and asks
Some quaint gift for her play,
The friendly little girl next door,
Who thinks I have a magic store
Of lovely things — balloons and more —
Wonder for every day.

And I am just a bit amused
At her calm, trusting air;
I who have somehow grown to be
Older so many years than three,
Still asking all expectantly
For beauty — everywhere!