It’s not always like this –
Sometimes we hurry,
you cry when your hair’s pulled,
and once I scraped your ear.
But today, with
your fair features glowing
in Sunday morning sun,
you in poofy pink dress,
and the music box
chiming in your hands,
I brush slowly,
and smile
at what I already know:
There’s nothing I’d rather do than
Brush your hair,
Hear your chatter,
and watch you pull toothy faces
in the mirror.
Daughter, you are joy.
Copyright © 2014, Danette Christensen, Light is All Around Me.
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