Not written to make you cry
It is merely a poem
Saying I love you.
I looked inside your baby book
And found some memories I had forgotten
I read of the games you liked to play
And songs from Mary Poppin.
I saw your foot prints so very small
And smiled at how awkwardly I traced them
I leafed through the stages of crawling and walking
Your very first words
I viewed your growth chart from year to year
And witnessed your changing beauty and grace
I marveled at your innocent joy
When smelling a fragrant rose.
Then I closed the book
It had come to an end
My little girl is
now a woman
Tall, proud and dignified.