Isabella's Song

She came to me one hot summer afternoon. At 1206 topped with fiery hair and a little white tuff. Silent cry. Nervous was I when they gave her to me. A little cherub with fragile wings Blue eyes open wide and wild. Smile upon lips Body no bigger than an afterthough. Tiny little thing almost a dream, all perfect and new. Her day was that of Emancipation Cried to be freed of shackles other babes paid no mind. Arms could not be swaddled to her sides. Shrugging shoulders as hands she opened and closed as if to clutch the air about her. Isabella, warrior child, to speak your name invokes all that is good and pure. Wept did I the night that you did not wake me at half past three. Just you and me in the dark, wrapped in blankets, our quite time. Elegant angel baby determined and strong My binder to this world keeper of my heart and soul.