Treasure Island

Barbara Stahly

(Boston Mass)

Janice


Janice my dear, daughter of mine,
So sweet and loving and pure of thought.
Given to me from the Lord above
To teach us here all about love.
She’s quiet and thoughtful and oh so true, what more could a mother ask for than a daughter like you.
I’ll love you dear daughter forever more, and will wait for you as you cross through the door.
So until then, to yourself be true, your reward is in heaven with the angels too.

Submitted: Saturday, March 10, 2007
Edited: Monday, January 31, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Janice by Barbara Stahly )

Enter the verification code :

  • Donna Barker (3/27/2008 8:30:00 AM)

    I really enjoyed this poem...I lost my daughter in 2002 she was 29 and it remined me of her...Please keep up the mother daughter poems I love them..You are awesome. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Mother's Job, Edgar Albert Guest
  2. Education Coming Full Circle, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  3. What Father Knows, Edgar Albert Guest
  4. To The Boy, Edgar Albert Guest
  5. His Example, Edgar Albert Guest
  6. Impediment, Sunny Chopra
  7. Bravery, Edgar Albert Guest
  8. Endurance, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. A Year's New Wish, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. A Successful Dad, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]