Cynosure
Her confidence stilled us as she sailed through the air;
The grace of a gazelle, with the wind in her hair.
Our little ballerina, the cynosure of our eyes,
Breaking dawn, to an illustrious sunrise.
Ten times one, her young tender age,
An ageless wonder on life's center stage.
Choreography was stunning, although second best;
In our minds, we knew, we'd been truly blessed.
She danced all that evening in glorious array;
Shining like the stars in Heaven's bouquet.
The light of our eyes, the love of our hearts;
An endless performance, forever in our thoughts.
Copyright © R.A. Marschall | Year Posted 2016
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