Touch the Sun

Touch the Sun

 She sits on the swing, thinks she has wings.
She wants to touch the sun,
says, “Push higher and higher,
so I can touch it soon.”

The smile on her face
The glee in her eyes
Her pink pretty cheeks,
The hair in the air
Saying, “Nana, push more, much higher than the sun.”

“The time has come, the tricks you have known.
Let’s see how far and high you can swing on your own.”

She pushes so high she almost touches sky,
But what goes up has to come down.
Nana stands by her side while she struggles to stay high.
The sun looks down, slightly laughing at her stride.

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