I wrote this for my 4-year old niece during the Kruger Park Holiday.
I’m writing you this poem today
though you can’t yet understand it.
It doesn’t really matter.
Your laughing eyes demand it.
Your sunbeam hair must be
shining for a poets eye.
I praise with no embellishment
I dare not tell
a single lie.
to all who come your way.
You’ll be a heart-breaker someday.
I write this in the mountains
you are four years old
your dark, sad uncle’s favorite sight
Blue-eyed solid gold.
And I made you a promise
and I pledge to keep.
That this poem will be read on your 16th birthday.
Even if your teen-aged embarrassment is deep.