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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1870373
Quatrain about my daughter
A precious gift wrapped up in love,
My infant daughter like a dove.
A glimpse of her eyes reels me in,
Her tiny form tucked ‘neath my chin.

I draw her out, and, face to face,
Our eyes unite in time and space.
Of all the souls alive on earth,
We are connected by her birth.

I would freeze this moment, for a while,
Yet time treads on, and so I smile.
Mem’ries imprinted on my heart,
Keep us nigh, though now far apart.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1870373-A-Precious-Gift