Not all little girls are angels. May 2017, Bob Ferguson. Copyright Ferguson Publishing.
Dainty feet skipped and hopped along the well-worn path as sunlight filtered through green leafed trees. Long blonde hair danced in time to the flow of her white dress in the summer breeze. She loved to create rhymes of fun, and times gone, and times begun.
"Skip –skippety, skip -skippety,
I'm all alone,
Mummy is so busy,
She doesn't know I'm not at home."
Over and over she performed her new rhyme. The forest echoed…Read more