Ice Cream

She sits there contentedly in the sand,
An ice cream clenched in her little hand,
She's not too sure which end to lick,
As down her hand it causes a slick.

She decides to catch the drips,
And slowly over her hand over she tips,
Now we all know, but she does not,
That the ice cream is about to drop.

She cleans away the melted cream,
But now her eyes with happiness don't gleam,
For as she turns her hand up straight,
The loss is seen upon her face.

The ice cream now lies in the sand,
Dropped from her inexperienced hand,
As we watch her lip starts to quiver,
From her screams we won't be delivered.

Liz