He, your father,
Gave you green eyes,
Emerald isles,
To carry you miles,
His obvious love,
Still shines in your smile.
She, the sweet rose
Your lips were made of,
Carried you close
On shoulders above,
She taught you to reach,
Such was her lone star love.
I am the mirror, a child like you,
Come and little closer, and I will too.
Copyright © 2026 James Fredholm. All Rights Reserved