|Daddy's Little Girl
She sits alone at night and stares
At a picture on her wall,
And ever so softly she declares
It's her favorite one of all.
Right beside that picture
And all the memories it brings
Is another one of her father
Displaying his new golden pair of wings.
He sits stiff as a board
With an American flag
In his hands which he so proudly holds
"That's my dad" she silently brags
As her pink photo album unfolds.
A smile creeps upon her face
As she reminisces about him once more.
She turns each page with a quickening pace,
Unsure which emotion each has in store.
As she turns the last page of her mini slide show,
Silence is the only sound,
As a small piece of paper with its own special glow
Floats calmly towards the ground.
Although slightly faded from the start
She could read it loud and clear.
"Rest in peace, and in our hearts,
You'll always be with us here".
She remembered hearing that prayer on the day
When his body was layed in his tomb.
She never has trouble frinding her way,
It's where the flowers are always in bloom.
Every Father's Day she visits him,
Amongst those flowers on his grave,
And she thinks of all the lives that were lost,
And all the lives he saved.
And on each Father's Day she wears
Her favorite dress of pearl,
And shares with her father her album,
Labeled "Daddy's Little Girl".
|:: Kristin Ansley