Aunt Eleanor wears such diamonds!
Shiny and gay and grand,
Some on her neck and some in her hair,
And some on her pretty hand.
One day I asked my mama
Why she never wore them, too;
She laughed and said, as she kissed my eyes,
“My jewels are here, bright blue.
They laugh and dance and beam and smile,
So lovely all the day,
And never like Aunt Eleanor’s go
In a velvet box to stay.
Hers are prisoned in bands of gold,
But mine are free as air,
Set in a bonny, dimpled face,
And shadowed with shining hair!”

This poem is in the public domain.