She was a child
kneeling in prayer;
a yawn in flannel,
she tiptoed;
sleepy eyes
peeking through the keyhole
creating an ambience of tranquility
while tears trickle down trembling cheeks.
Still, in all her innocence,
a thorn in her Daddy's side,
as every memory of her
turned to embers, now cast away
to erase such an exhibition of failure
on his way to the top.
His image is fading now,
only a stenciled sketch
upon her mind's canvas
untouched , even by her pain
in the sands of time
but now, a bud has bloomed
into a lady
and tears turned to ink
as a broken heart spills
into poetry.
♥♥
~