Penelope Lane (A Children's Poem) By Victoria E. McAbee

On a beautiful spring day, a child was born.
The whole family gathered ‘round at the sight of the baby, so adorn.

The parents rejoiced in the birth of their little girl.
They loved her dearly, and welcomed her into the world.

Everyone gave a firm acclaim
when they decided Penelope would be her name.

She would dance ballet, play the piano. . . Maybe she would sing!
Oh, she would grow to be so perfect, like a delicate angel’s wing.

Penelope’s parents barely blinked and their baby girl turned one.
They planned her first birthday party, a day of festivities and fun.

The invitations were sent upon a pretty page. But what gifts should be brought for a baby of such young age?

Penelope’s parents looked out of the window, at the nature, so calm and so free.
Then they both nodded their heads in agreement and said, “We’ll ask them to bring trees!”

The invitations read: “Please bring a small sapling Cherry Blossom tree to be planted and watched as it grows as pretty as she.”

Soon enough, it was Penelope’s special day.
A quarter past noon, everyone was on their way.

One after another, the cars pulled into the drive.
All gentlemen helped unload the trees, so alive.

The celebration was filled with cake and lots of laugher.
Memories were in the making for a happily ever after.

The following day, Penelope’s parents went outside.
They began to dig holes, each two feet deep and two feet wide.

All trees were finally at home within the earth’s soil, planted in two rows, standing proud and royal.

The only thing left to do was hope that May would bring ample rain to nourish and to feed the trees of Penelope Lane.

The months kept breezing by and Penelope began to talk.
Shortly after, she also learned to walk.

Then many years passed by, and indeed the Cherry Blossoms grew.
By the time the trees were eight feet tall,
Penelope was twenty-two.

Later Penelope married and was expecting children of her own. She wanted her story to forever be known.

So when her kids were old enough and ready to hear, she told them the story of her very first year.

She told them the story of how the trees came, how they grew and blossomed, and carried her name.

When Penelope’s children were grown, they had their own babies too. For generations the legend was shared which lead it here to you.

So remember the importance of family and the traditions and blessings it brings.
And may you think of Penelope Lane when the season turns to spring.

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