Oh my sweet Sophie Bean,
you are my little queen.
Although sometimes your poop is green,
and your face is not so clean.
Occasionally, there is lint in your toes between.
And I know that someday you'll be a cranky teen.
I can't resist those little eyes like sateen
or your hair with its sheen.
Your cuteness hits me like a ball peen,
if you know what I mean.
You rarely let me read a magazine,
And every day there is no routine.
I can't wait to read to you of a rabbit made of velveteen.
Someday you'll have to wean,
but for now, I am your canteen.
Despite, or perhaps because of, your mercurial mien,
I love you, my little bean.