Daughter

My green eyed child with golden curls,

Frail palest fair and pure in youthful innocence.

Little, littlest girl, whose tiny trusting hand

Enclasped by mine, has vision still of a world

Of unstained brilliance and unbounded serendipity.

Sweetest bud, fragile seedling transplanted from

My womb into the cold uncertainty of Earth’s nursery.

Weather well the seasons and grow like the ethereal

Birch that ever seeks the celestial radiance and

Catches upon the wind the gossamers of creation.

©JEFT 1991