A girl scribling...

A pen in hand
That the fingers can barely hold
She scribbles on the spread out paper
Trying to rebuild the world she sees,
Through smiling two years old eyes,
Her lips are yet to learn tricky words,
A angel heart still throbbing within
Weaving tales, the ink spreads all about
Come alive, stories of innocent age
Sultry summer afternoon looks over,
As elders indulge in lazy siesta
Her pen in little fingers
Weave tales through incoherent scribes.