Friday 25 May 2012

A poem for my daughter, Frances Leigh.

I tasted the salt of your tears before you did. I would kiss them away before they fell down your cheek.

I knew every groove, curve and bump of your head before it was dressed with its amber red locks. 

I gifted you music through my lullabies. Sent you to sleep on the wave of my melody.

My body, your first source of food. My naked skin against yours, your first source of heat.

I knew you before you knew yourself. And I loved you before you were real.

You are my daughter, my blessing, my life.

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