Emma
Emma
No cheek was there, ere so fair, nor morning breath so cool
Red ribbons in her long blonde hair, eyes shining as bejewelled
With movement gently delicate, graceful as a swan
Her mind so nimbly intricate, a smile for everyone
Her spoken word, mellow and light, her voice as soft as sleep
The stories that she told each night, she said, were mine to keep
I saw her grow from babe in arm, as life began to weigh
Blessed with every worldly charm, to woman of today
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