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Grow Old Along With Me, The Best Is Yet To Be |
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Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all. Emily Dickinson |
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Chasing kite tails, painting her nails...
that's what little girls are made of. |
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Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The Sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?
He's under the haystack, fast asleep. |
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Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight. |
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I see the moon, and the moon sees me;
God bless the moon, and God bless me. |
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Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
how does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle-shells,
and pretty maids all in a row. |
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Twinkle twinkle little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky. |
