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Poems of my cousin, Ura May
There Was a Doll


Ura Mayís bed was always so neat.
No one allowed to use it for a seat.
The embroidery in thread of blue
On silk was so rich and true.
Resting between the pillows fluffed
Was a precious doll of China and stuff.
How I longed to touch and hold her
But, alas this was the only burr
Between my cousin and me.
Donít touch my bed or the dolly.
When she didnít see, I gave the doll a caress,
I smoothed her hair and patted her velvet dress.
Just as carefully returned her to that place
Between the pillows after I kissed her face.


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