Luna’s Most Darlingest Adventure

Little Miss Tag‑along —
that is to say, our little moonbeam Luna —
loved her “firstest” sister Gracie so.
Whatever Gracie would do — why don’t you know —
Luna was there too.

Gracie adored her adorable little sister because,
and then some. And so it would be —
forever and always, of course,
as we shall do, and plainly see.

But having Luna attached like a hug
is like one spin too many —
the kind that makes you dizzy,
and your rather‑nots most likely be.
“Oh my pockets!”

Maybe more than tagging‑along,
Luna loved to twirl and dance and twirl.
After all, supposing herself a “ballernina” was what
she did best — and with “much charmings” besides.

Therefore she was inclined to wear a tutu —
especially, and enthusiastically, pink or blue,
or perhaps the other blue,
the yet more distinguished one.

And as for Pirouette —
well that bubbled up from her toes to her tummy,
and around she would go—don’t you know?

“Pawpaw, I peer‑o‑etting,” she would always say
when she did, and not before.

Now Gracie was known for spreading goodness
just as much as she could carry—
and even more so on days ending in 'y.'

And Luna was known for twirling when her feet told her to,
which was more now than more then.
Why this should be so, we don’t know — but off she’d go.

At this time when Rosie was so little
she’d get lost in Pawpaw’s tulips —
right in the middle, but only if she wasn’t careful, and she wasn’t.

So when she’d go a‑hiding,
Gracie knew where she was abiding.
For in the flowers she’d always be,
even if only her smile we could see.

Gracie decided Luna needed to spend more time with Rosie —
that is to say, less time affixed to her “olderest” sister.
So when Luna wasn’t looking when she should have been,
Gracie took off like a shot toward the nearest over‑there.

Rosie was the first to notice that here was where Big Sis was not.
She so concluded to Luna, “She not there.”
And no one had to tell Luna who “she” was,
or which “there” Rosie had annunciated with such demure —
for naturally only Gracie it would be.

Luna decided, before she even knew it,
that to Gracie was where she should be.
But she couldn’t just fly away, leaving Rosie to herself —
or she too alone might be.

And besides, she had responsibility,
because older sisters always do.
Or if they don’t, they really should — wouldn’t they.

Dependability and reliability were Gracie’s,
but what Gracie could, Luna might too.

Should she make a game with seek and hide,
knowing in the tulips Rosie would abide?
But what if longer-than-she-should came later?
And Rosie’s discernment came before?
Shouldn’t that never be, and wouldn’t that never do?

Luna made her contemplation
that with Pawpaw Rosie must be,
but upon some investigation,
Pawpaw was napping as we see —
oh no, is that the vacuum cleaner?

So with Rosie she must go,
though alas she will be too slow.

Luna: “Come, Rosie — let us find her whereverabouts
before Gracie discovers her thereverabouts.”

Rosie, all of three‑years old, and not much more:
“Yeah! I’m now Miss Tagging‑a-long!”

So off the little sisters flew,
but in no time at all, Rosie was not precisely slow,
but with butterflies and sparrows she must go!
Flying and diving, chasing and aweing,
Rosie kissed the rays of the sun,
slid down the bows of the rain,
calming winds to breezes, setting tiny bees a‑sneezes,
filling the now-blue sky with glee and rose-colored glitter.

Luna: “Rosie!” she said sternly.
But her little sister’s smile did beam
with a happiness of bliss
that an innocent child does possess.

So Luna surrendered, for her sister’s smile she did treasure —
a cherub’s own fancy and caprice,
which we all know is without measure.

So with a gentle sigh, Luna did express:
“Rosie, my dear little sister, do continue your charmings.”

And before she knew she forgot,
Luna was swinging in the rainbows,
splashing in the sunbeams,
and illuminating their sisterly affinity
with play and felicity.

They wore themselves both out and in,
as children should,
set their course to Pawpaw
and onward they did proceed.

Pawpaw napped away the afternoon,
and the before-dinner,
with two spent little cherubs.
The three were so content
that one might believe Pawpaw’s living room sacred,
sanctified by their fealty.

Dinner woke them with its aroma,
Gracie playing the surpriser and cook.

After that, and the cheerful talkings,
Luna required of her sister:
“Tell us, dear Gracie, where today to go were you?”

Chiming in, giggling Rosie did insist:
“And what dids you!”

Rosie’s eyes did sparkle,
and Luna smiled in admiration of their big sister.
And Pawpaw, he could not be more proud of his little angels.

And the neighbors did wonder why his house was now a home,
full of light and giggling and joy.
And sincere where their praises to God,
singing “for all good things come from Him.”

So Luna’s day turned more into darling than adventure,
laced with charity,
and filled with family.

A friendly congregation of angels arrived
to escort Pawpaw’s little angels
back home to the Lord —
a bit delayed by snuggles and hugs
and a few tiny wonders, three I should think.

It is no secret that when miracles come in threes, it’s heaven’s special blessing.
And twice as much when it comes on tiny wings and giving hearts.
And dare we say, thrice to be precise.

And they were.

Lady Luna