To remember her by when I’m old.
Little blonde curls,
over a flower,
I love her more with each passing hour,
What did I do to be so blessed,
to have earned her love i can only guess.
Little one with curls of gold,
for now you are mine to have,to hold,
to treasure these memories when I am old.
to hold your pictures then for hours,
remembering you and I together in these fields of flowers.
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