Gratitude Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

A braid of wind and perfumed hair
trails her as she happily swings.
Her smile and her laugh - beautiful!
She'll never know the joy she brings.

With her golden hair and blue eyes,
she looks much like a part of me,
the child that I will never have,
the mother I will never be.

She kicks her feet to touch the sky
as she leans back toward the ground.
She's like a lily blossoming
on this piece of earth she has found.

My eyes become like seawater.
A salty tear falls down my cheek.
A foolish dream, foolish dreamer!
I close my eyes and do not speak.

A tender dove, a fragile child,
she reminds me so much of you.
She has that look of innocence,
and she could be your daughter too.

The sunset glistens at her side.
She's a portrait of crimson light.
A butterfly with gentle wings,
her skirt is trimmed with lacy white.

I am content with everything
as orchards bloom across the sky.
The fruit of life is found in love
and in the loves of days gone by.

And I am blessed to hold your love,
to smell the sweetness of your hair,
to turn at night and be at peace,
to sleep, to dream, and have you there.