Blonde locks drape rosy, cherub cheeks
Delicate lips part for breath and
Her smile warms the ages
Eyes blink and bat in an even cadence
Dainty fingers drip with the juice of too tart apples
Tips of toes peek out of white, tight sandals
Her tender laugh marks her delight in being
Innocence avails her and
Time would best be served standing still
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Author:
Katie B. (
Offline) - Published: March 18th, 2026 07:13
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Katie that last line holds all the power of a poem well composed and beautiful. A most lovely write that drips with innocence, bubbles with youth and tickles the memory of any parent. Oh that they would stay that age. A fave
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