My little girl...

She's reawakened an interest in poetry for me...

I love her.
Before the natal waterslide Immersed you in the pool of birth, 
I dreamed your pageant on this earth As cherub, tomboy, scholar, bride.  
My heart's your plaything, woman child, Your windup toy, your music box - 
For of its massive, steel-bolt locks The combinations have you dialed.

1 comment:

Mama said...

I am adrift in admiration.