Little feet
on mounds of earth
Lots of stamping
childrens' mirth
Jumping mole hills
wellies high

How fast these precious times go by

Little voice from mum (disguised)
wonderment shines in widening eyes
believing the poor jangled mole had said

**"Stop Stamping On My Head!"

She has always had a suspicion
that the boy was on a secret mission  
In addition
She had a presentiment because of their
heated arguments and how they could never nod in assent  
And how he was never quiet
and just so defiant

The uncertainty she felt whenever he watched her as she persistently walked down the halls
Or when she sluggishly sat in class
and as he stared at her lovingly it
made her feel uneasy
When she turns to look at him disgusted
she sees just how flustered he look

All these suspicions it was like a six sense
but she could never suspect
or come to accept
the event of him loving her