She is young,
so full of hope,
reveling in tiny dreams,
filling up her arms with flowers,
right for giving any queen.
Running to her beaming bright,
while cradling this prize.
A flickering of yellow light,
within her mother’s eyes.

I love it when she does this.  She’s so sweet.  She loves to pick them, and to blow the ones that have seeded.  (Though she can’t quite muster the airpower.)  And she always brings them to me.  I’m so blessed.


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