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She’s my own little Sis',
And I ‘oft reminisce,
Of the day that she entered our home,
A small little thing,
With blonde hair like fine string,
And those lungs that could cut to the
bone.
Not loud,
as it were,
Just easily heard,
Above sirens and whistles and crowds,
But in spite of the noise,
We would share all our toys,
Oh, my parents, they really were proud.
She had
such tiny feet,
They really were sweet,
Little toes that were shiny and new,
And small little hands,
Like petite grains of sand,
All-in-all she could fit in your shoe.
But those
days are now gone,
As I sing you this song,
She is grown and has kids of her own,
I still think of the day,
In a time far away,
That great day when she entered our home.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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