My young blond daughter.
A twinkle in my eye.
A spark in my heart.
She says,
I like being your honey, Mommy.
A constant cuddler
who waddles in my bedroom each night
for some extra lovin.’
I awake with the soft strokes on my face,
a tiny movement of her hand.
She thinks I’m beautiful.
My honey likes to eat in the “diamond” room
and get “necky” for foamy bubble baths
so that she will smell fresh for her troublesome
make-believe friend, Cindy.
Before bedtime, we read “demotions” from the
Scriptures,
and she asks, Where is Heaven?
She is Heaven.
My brown-eyed cutie elicits a smile from my
soul
through small movements.
I find her white dance gloves
with a lipstick stain
h i d d e n
in the folds of my purse.
My heart swells.
I cannot put them away.
I am compelled to hold them, to
visualize her little painted
f in ge rs
that once grew
inside me.
She’s found a best friend, Caroline.
I watch them together,
and I see my honey growing
UP.
She is discovering other beautiful people.
Melissa Shields 2000
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