If I could paint her,
I’d paint her in gold, cream, rose petal pink
with midnight in her hair and eyes.
If I could sculpt her
Those who saw, would marvel at perfection.
And they would name me Pygmalion
For I would love this creation.
If I could record her singing
Her quiet siren song of joy
All who heard would smile.
I wish I could capture her scent
That unique baby scent
milk,powder, and sweetness.
I’d immortalize it
Perhaps in scratch and sniff.
I’ll always remember those sweet toothless giggles
The wide mouthed wonder
And the feel of tiny
damp fingers curled around mine
I’ll remember happiness and smiles
in the morning
And every time I enter the room
The ghost of a dimple playing hide-and-seek
in the tip of her tiny chin.
Or the sight of her rampaging through the house
In a walker, backwards.
There are so many new memories to create
Smiles, laughter, anger, tears, and love
But how I savor these.