Yet, here you are, in my heart.
In the forefront of my dreams.
My arms shall embrace you,
My hand will guide you.
Through the rows of my garden.
And teach you the flower's names.
Will you call me Grandma?
Perhaps Nana or Grams.
I can hear your voice.
The sound of your giggle.
Oh, years of the young,
Like the bud of a rose.
As it bares to blossom.
Your name, I do not know.
A gift from God you will be.
Grand-daughter to thee.
Enter this arbor,
My full circle flower,
May I watch you bloom.
While my garden grows golden.
(c)Dona M. Kalinski 2010
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