There was a smallest ever wee Irish soul She lived within a largest oldest tree Outside she grew a bed of Foregetmenots She had a smile that brought such glee
When she toddled off to the market She always carried a basket made of grass And upon her ears hung jingle jangles That she had made from bits of glass
Those that knew her called her Wee Wander As she'd wander often here and there Gathering wild flower seeds to sow in garden And soon it all looked so beyond compare
With chocolate vine on her tree thus to climb And little violates planted in shells of birds When she spoke it sounded just like mucic Her very voice danced rather than of words
Most of her clothes were colores of green As Irish as Irish as Irish it can ever be All the birds and butterflies knew her well Little Wee Wander lived within a largest tree