6.21.15
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.
