I Write For Her
Location
I watch her closely--
As her smile broadens,
Her dark curls caress her blushing cheeks
And her eyes carefully roam beds of flowers.
She reaches down,
Plucks a handful of daisies,
And presses them gently to her nose.
She is Innocence
She is Laughter
She is Youth
Her garden is hope and bliss.
It blooms with possibility and optimism.
There are no clouds in her skies. Not a trace of darkness.
Speaking gently to her flowers,
She tells them of their beauty.
And turns her face upwards to bathe
In the sweetness of the sunshine.
In the sweetness of the world.
And as I watch more closely
I realize she is who I used to be.