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.