It is difficult to believe
That Genny is no longer a child
And if my eyes do not deceive
She is growing up faster than before;
Though passing time may cause us to grieve
How so? When such a pearl is to emerge?
Let Old father Time give one more heave
And there, on display, the pride of Greenwich.
Now growing up she’s on the eve
Of becoming a sensible, cheerful one
Who will add more to life and yet not leave
That childhood wonder and sense of fun;
May they endure and through your whole life weave
Your dearest dreams, sweet Genevieve.

July 2008