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To My Youngest Son
I wish I could write a finest piece
A poem that will rise and be the best
The one will endure in time like a total bliss
So happiness is mine when I come to rest
But unluckily I don’t have the finest words
And to the brightest idea my brain couldn’t work
So this would be forever a simple dream
My strongest foe I could never ever win
In that poem I would like to say
That a sweetest smile on your face
Causes so much joy in my life
Just like a sun glimpsing through a cloud
Brings sunshine to a flower bud
And in the next stanza I will state
That really I love your little hands
‘Cause they wipe away my tears and fears
Just like a summer breeze to an old tree
Blows away its driest leaves
And before my poem ends
I will tell the world about your tiny voice
How it soothes my sorrows and pain
Just like an abundant rain
Quenches even the desert soil
And in my last stanza I will convey
That your tender kisses on my cheek
Reminds me the fulfillment of my dream
Just like this poem I would like to end
Even this is not so fine, its thought is what I meant
poem
by
Rose de Ramar
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