Mother and daughter
Each and every morningas I wake,
almost still asleep-
but yet so awake
when I see my girl,
playing in her crib,
and lighting up
like the sun itself
when she sees my face.
Her smile as I pick her up,
her laughter
as we play,
Her eyes glittering
for each new thing,
Her hands trying
so hard to touch
everything
This tiny little baby girl,
who at her first breath
stole my heart.
This Love
My daughter.
Poetry by Stine Mari Thomassen
Read 995 times
Written on 2013-03-08 at 20:56
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