As the sun throws itself into the sky
Small hands are already stitching with a sigh.
Boxed in like a new china doll waiting to be unwrapped
by little princesses on the way to school.

As the wind blows through the singing trees
Small hands are already sowing in threes.
Together without speaking like the little princes,
with the football in the height of concentration.

The school bell rings,
Causing the birds to spread their wings.
The little princes and princesses skip along home to play some more,
While the small, small hands rest for the night.