I see her lovely eyes, so big, so green,

Her laugh, infectious, ever makes me smile.

A shake of head, brown gold mane, the sheen

Invigorates, captivates.  Her style–

Unique, brash, calculated–and recalls

Another she admires, who’s from a time

She only knows from tales.  This fine, this tall,

Lovely young woman sees a hill to climb

Not reached by many, but by this one, who,

With wealth of skill, with wealth of talent, has

Not yet confronted what she cannot do

Or what she cannot dream.  She will surpass

The wildest notions of her life to be.

And we, behind, await what we will see.