Little Miss Pinball

I know a young lady named Scatterfoot Sadie
Who cannot sit still for a second –
She hustles and bustles and flexes her muscles,
And scuttles whenever she’s beckoned.
Perhaps all her fidgets in feet, knees and digits
Are gyroscopes keeping her poise –
Or maybe it serves as a mask for her nerves
With her tremors all lost in the noise.

Here she comes Sadie, she buzzes and hums,
            As she zig-zags from thither to yon.
            Here she comes Sadie, and Sadie she comes,
And Sadie she goes, and she’s gone.

I know a young petal who never does settle,
Since bouncing in booties and bonnet.
I know a young rhino who wears out the lino
By clomping and pomping upon it.
I know a pied piper who’s more than just hyper –
She’s mega and giga and terra.
She’s magnitudes faster, with energies vaster
In both her success and her error.

            Here she comes Sadie, with whistles and drums,
Both skylark and trumpeter swan.
Here she comes Sadie, and Sadie she comes,
And Sadie she goes, and she’s gone.

I know a young poppet who just cannot stop it,
And never has recourse to brake.
With swings and trapezes, she’s blown on the breezes,
And whips up the wind in her wake.
There’s some folk who mention her roving attention
That points to some point of attraction,
And some folk who think that’s she’s too scared to blink
Just in case she should miss any action.

            Here she comes Sadie, all peaches and plums,
As her sweetness must sugar-rush on.
Here she comes Sadie, and Sadie she comes,
And Sadie she goes, and she’s gone.

I know a young girl who is always a-whirl,
Like her timbers are tossed on the ocean –
She dashes and darts as she stutters and starts,
And when even at rest, she’s in motion.
Her larynx is thrumming, her fingers are drumming,
Her eyeballs are to-ing and fro-ing –
Her atoms are spinning, her neurons are singing,
Her bramble-patch hair-thatch is growing.

            Here she comes Sadie, all fingers and thumbs,
As she fiddles and tinkers anon.
Here she comes Sadie, and Sadie she comes,
And Sadie she goes, and she’s gone.

I know a young missy who’s terribly busy
Upon some endeavour or other –
Her hoardings and strewings and feverish doings
Are lost upon even her mother.
She’s so all-commanding she just leaves us standing,
Awash in the glow of her starlet –
For we who are left are the warp and the weft
All throughout which she’s threading her scarlet.

            Here she comes Sadie, dispelling the glums –
She dazzles where sunlight is shone.
Here she comes Sadie, and Sadie she comes,
And Sadie she goes, and she’s gone.