Extemperaneous poetry

Friday morning as we walked to the car, I asked Greta to stay off the wet grass and stick to the sidewalk. She obeyed and began to softly sing:

"Dew on the grass is beautiful.
When the sun hits it,
It sparkles like a diamond.
It's so beautiful."

It's hard to convey the melody, but I'm certain it was wholly original. The loveliest part? That evening, as Carey was making dinner, she sang it again and wrote the nouns and verbs on a piece of paper. (Click the image to enlarge.)