Daughters
I have such lovely daughters,
Each unique in her own way,
If asked to pick a favorite
This is what I'd say..
Could I pick a single flower,
From a garden I had grown?
One single solitary bloom,
From the seed that I have sown?
One might rise up to the sky,
And stand out from the rest.
Another have the fragrance
That I've always liked the best.
One might have the etchings
Of a smile upon its face.
Another have the simple form
Of poetry and grace
One might have the petals
Soft as velvet kissed with dew,
And yet my choice among them all
Might have a crimson hue.
How could I choose a favorite
Among those I have borne?
When even from a perfect rose. . .
You'll find a furtive thorn.
No, I'd never choose one single bloom
To brighten up my day.
Instead I'd gather them into
One delightful spring bouquet.
From the moment they were given me
To nurture and to love . .
I knew a special gift was sent
From Heaven up above
There's no such thing as loving one
More dearly than another
I just thank God that I'm the one
He chose to be their mother.
©Dawn Stratton 1993
