Read That For Me, Please

Padding quietly toward me,
Uncertain still on her feet,
She carries The Giving Tree
And smiles, toothy and sweet.

"Read that for me," I hear.
Pleading softly, "Please?"
I take the book and pull her near.
She rests on me with ease.

I watch her wide, blue-silver eyes
As she becomes engaged.
“No! My do it myself!” she cries
When I reach to turn the page.

When I finish, I hear, “Read it again.
“Again please, Mommy? More!”
How can I not get pulled back in
To these minutes I adore?