Tiny young Evy,
A six-year-old girl
Was named for her granny
Miss Evelyn Pearl.
She hasn’t young cousins
Her own age for play.
No brothers or sisters
To fill up her day.
When her family visits
Her grandmother’s home
She goes to the attic
Where she plays alone.
She’s never caught bored
When she goes up there
‘cause mystical wonder
Hangs loose in the air.
A porcelain doll
Becomes her best friend.
She tells her big secrets
For hours on end.
On her Grampy’s old flute
She’ll blow out a tune
And fancy’s they hear her
Out there on the moon.
Old buttons and beads
Become long lost treasure
That salty sea captains
Can count at their leisure.
A toppled old shelf
And a discarded oar
Becomes ship and rudder
That washed up ashore.
With musty old curtains
She fashions a tail
And waves are comprised
Of granny’s old veil.
Old teddy bear people
Are folk of the sea.
They go on adventures
‘Till afternoon tea.
When the moon starts to rise
And it’s time to head out
Tiny young Evy
Won’t grumble or pout.
Her exotic vast kingdom
Will wait for our girl.
‘Till then it’s the attic
Of Evelyn Pearl.
A Freckle for Your Thoughts 
I imagined this whole poem as a children’s book. Awesome job!!
Love Love!!!