Maggie and the Ladybug

Maggie's little fingers splashed about in the water,

Happily playing in a puddle of rain;

Unknowingly close to someone in danger,

Whose attempts not to drown were so far in vain.

Soon little eyes turned and realized the horror!

They saw the poor creature struggling in pain!

Cease to play little fingers! To the rescue you'll be!

So then and there Maggie saved him from the puddle of rain.

Who was "he" might you ask? Who he was I will say;

Twas a ladybug fellow: bright, spotted, and red

It was he who was saved that bright faithful day.

If Maggie had not been there he would have been dead.

This he knew very well and he thanked her with vigor

He crawled back and forth from her arm to her hand

This gave her much pleasure as she giggled and grinned

Delighted to be loved by her new little friend.

To thank him for thanking her in such a sweet manner

She declared she would make him a small cozy home

Not a mansion or a cottage, quite in between really

Just the sort of place a ladybug would roam

She set to work right away, her brain clouds were storming

Then it came to her suddenly, an ingenious thought!

She took a pink bucket, some sticks and some leaves

(Steering clear of poison ivy as she had been taught)

When the house and the foliage had all been collected

She let down her small friend into his new humble abode

Though reluctant to leave her dear hand that now held him

To please her he finally decided to go

And how he was pleased when he entered his bucket!

(His home, of course, is what I was meaning to mention)

Maggie now jumped for joy at this prospect

She had waited for his reaction with anxious suspension

Then seeing him settled in his glorious home place

She said to herself, "He's missing something that's needed"

"I'll call him Peter" (formerly her friend had been nameless)

And so yet another of his problems by Maggie was heeded

So Peter the Ladybug being at ease and quite happy

Closed his eyes and decided to nap a short while

But Maggie, poor child, thinking he'd died in his bucket

Shed tears that were worthy of a large crocodile

Peter saw her distress so he opened his wings up

He flew out of his home that had such grace and such charm

He loved his pink bucket but yearned after another place

The first place he'd felt loved, on Maggie's left arm

And so here we will leave them where they ought to be left

Together and joyful, young and carefree

This was the story of how an insect was rescued

By a blond little girl under a giant shade tree

©by: Allix Brunson 6/18/10