February 9, 2003
Betwixt Howard’s Knob and King Street,
Nestled amongst thick bramble, wild apple, black cherry,
From reservoirs of Arcadian rain,
A new spring burst forth sweet and pure.
Sympathy is her sense,
Attuned to the heart
as water the form filled.
Grace is her mark,
Her mode of communication dance,
The outward expression of her inner life.
The abundance of her strength,
Hidden in its depth,
And manifest only through the tenderness of her touch,
Is our constant treasure.
The abundance of her strength,
Hidden in its depth,
And manifest only through the tenderness of her touch,
Is our constant treasure.
She is our coolest summer rain,
And our softest fall breeze,
We celebrate her life.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARIANNA
2 comments:
Beauty is found in all things, but
mostly in y'all.
A beautiful poem
A beautiful daughter
Another beautiful daughter
A beautiful mother
A beautiful father
A beautiful life.
I love you,
MiMi
P.S. And a beautiful cake!
Hey -- who are those teenagers holding Arianna? Great picture, sweet baby, lovely poem. Happy Birthday to the A-girl!
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