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She came in springtime and the wild
Primroses thronged to meet
A child who most resembled them -
Small, beautiful and sweet.
She grew in love and laughter,
Loved happy faces, trees,
Noisy pubs and nappy changes,
And smiles, and more smiles, please.
Colin, her caterpillar,
Her pleasures, they were rife
Crammed all experiences into
Her six short months of life.
Last hours of life, tubed, on her side.
Were pleasures all too few?
Alisha smiled and "A-a"d,
And laughed at Peek-a-Boo.
She even softened Death, who said,
"She'll not meet hurt or harm."
He took her pain-and-fearlessly,
At home, in loving arms.
The children say she's in the clouds,
Or the most shining star of night.
In heaven? Or where anything
Is beautiful and bright.
Our child of spring and summer's gone
And we must Winter on awhile,
But through our loss we'll treasure still,
Alisha's radiant smile.
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