Ballad for Abigail


Sweet little sister,

my beautiful girl

 you are a flower,

  a delicate pearl.

   You are a mountain

    made of tough-soiled terrain;

     you are the sunshine

      that follows the rain.

       With hazelnut eyes

        roasted to perfection

         and your laugh being the sweetest,         

          most candied confection,

           You are a forrest

            made of thick canopy woods;

             pine scented fingers

              skin woven from wool.

            With pure little cells

          and your darling tissues,

        there need say no more

     for there are no reissues.

   A seed such as yours

 if treated with care

will one day bloom seeds of her own for an heir.

 And though you’ll bare apples,

  you might bare a plum,

    or even a peach or a cherry or none.

     But remember my darling,

      this world is all yours

       go wander and ponder

        from the seas to the shores.

          And hold with you close

           the heart of the hour,

            for it can escape

             and it can devour.

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