Paris In Springtime
We were blessed with an angel,
The day that she came,
Only a child so perfect,
Could carry her name,
I’d never imagined,
How precious she’d be,
Even now I’m amazed,
That she came from me,
They say Paris in springtime,
Is a magical place,
Like the beauty I see,
When I look at her face,
Pariss in springtime,
Is what they gave me,
I will love her forever,
And Eternity.
2005 - For my first borne, Pariss (spelt double 's') .
poem by Scarborough Gypsy
Added by Poetry Lover
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