My daughter and I were writing poetry together in her room, listening to meditative music and eating snacks. She requested I write a poem about her, and I was glad to oblige. It is in terza rima, which I reserve only for very special subjects.
A magic rain begins to fall upon
The hungered earth. Those drops of heaven's grace
Sweet renders all the parched and aching sod
Anew with life! And when I see her face
I feel at once the bright and glorious soul
That taught my injured heart and gave it place
In heightened faith. I glory to extole
The blessing that she daily, ever proves,
Her happiness, my always present goal.
And as my Father lent her unto me,
I plead Thy help to bring her back to Thee!