My sister

My sister came when I was two years old
Born into an icy winter cold
Her little face was full of sunny joy
As we played with dolls and our stuffed toys.

We lined up all our dolls in rows by size
The large ones at the back had blinking eyes
We played with an old dog on little wheels
It had no fur but still held great appeal

Dad lifted Eileen and held her very high
My little one, my darling don’t you cry
But all too soon the family turned sad.
Mother was not Mother without Dad

We survive and love and live our best
Life is hard but may we all be blessed