(Dedicated to my daughter, Diane.)
Thou art my image (‘tis how I doth think)
Nay. Thou art more lovelier in every way.
I see thee in thy father's eye- a twink
That brings about his inner child to play.
And when in competition - stars display
Their dancing radiance for all to see,
Oh how they toil and fail in dull array
For naught shines brighter than the heart of thee.
Words fail miserably when I speak of you,
My love too deep for me to even try.
Though there be times, with quill in hand, I do;
Only to lay it down with knowing sigh.
Know always, wherever in life you be
I'm your shadow - and will ever love thee.
Hope is the angel in your soul
who never sings the blues.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem