My Buglette

Dear Daughter,

Papa tried his hand at a poem today, because it is your birthday. It is hard for a Papa to put into words the love that he has for his daughter. I hope I got something across.

Just know, you are the most special person in the world to me.

The Buglette

A wrinkled nose, ruddy and broad

Fingers so tiny, rice-grained nails,

Deep blue-green eyes, squinting;

Cotton-capped and swaddled in stripes.

I held you in the sun, to tinge the jaundice,

On my forearm, you slept, like a lemur.
Wrapped like a bug, snugly and calm.

My life changed forever, forever in a day.

The greatest gift for your birthday, you gave yourself,

You were born, my dear, dear child.

Seven years gone by, but I remember,

I remember the moment you made me a father.

I Love you,

Papa