Buttercup Land by Rose Henderson

 Buttercup Land
by Rose Henderson

Come, little girl in the new blue frock,
Let's take a walk by the big round rock
That lies by the path of soft warm sand
That leads to the edge of Buttercup Land.

In Buttercup Land there are no cross words,

But flies and crickets and bees and birds,

And a small gray toad that hops and hops

In the long cool grass where the brooklet stops.

There nobody frowns if your curls are spoiled.

And nobody minds if your apron's soiled.

But the great blue sky smiles, near and far.

Where the gay little, gold little buttercups are.