Take my hand, Sweet Little One,
Let's walk again our favorite path --
That trail of freshly trodden grass
Which leads us to our Little Pond.
We'll sit at water's edge and watch,
As little fish pop up for lunch
And give their unsuspecting prey
Free passage to the 'Great Beyond'.
We'll bring along our fishing poles
And try to catch them in the act,
But if we do we'll toss 'em back;
Fret not, my precious Little Blond.
We'll talk about your favorite things
And let the hours fly away.
There's nowhere else I'd rather be
Than by your side at Little Pond.
-- P.E. Merrick (For MacKenzie)