Acorn To Mighty Oak
Neither baseball nor soccer,
Nor rod or reel would do,
For the pastime,
That would appeal to you.
Music and education,
Would be your call,
Your talent and tenacity,
Equipped you to have it all.
You were a young inquisitive acorn,
Who has blossomed into a woman self-made.
Bathing your mother and me,
In the caress of your mighty oak's shade.
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