Monthly Archives: March 2015

I Want a Daughter (Poem)

final rainbow

From Stardust


I want a daughter
with eyes like lightning and fire in her stride.
She will always be loved,
but I want her to love herself with the same fierceness.

I want her to know
that today’s impossibilities are just tomorrow’s difficulties;
that her passions are worthy of her time;
that failure is the first step to success,
and that she can make a difference
even when she thinks that she can’t.

I want her to realize
that her fists can be used to protect her;
that there are better people than ones who hurt her,
and that it’s okay to say goodbye.

I want her to smile only when she wants to;
to be angry when she feels it.
I want her to know strength isn’t violence
and love isn’t pain.

That adults aren’t always right,
and while we only have today,
she deserves the best tomorrow.

I want her to fall in love with stories,
and feel life fully. Though I’m not perfect,
I want her to know I’ve got her back.

I want a daughter
because the world needs more women like that.

Why I Bought You Flowers

www.public-domain-image.com (public domain image)

We’ve been dating for a while but I’m not in love. I won’t be, beyond friendship or admiration, but still, when I show up at your house today, there’s a bouquet of roses held in my hands.

A confused look on fills your face when you see the flowers, and I know why. You’ve known from the beginning I won’t fall in love, can’t feel the romance you do, but still, my hands smell of the roses I bought for you. What is this if it isn’t romance? What is this if it isn’t love?

But it is love. Not the crash-landing into your arms kind, not the speeding heartbeat or butterflies dancing their way through my stomach, more a closeness and comfort and true, deep friendship. It is love, a solid closeness that’s only made stronger by the force of attraction and the nights we’ve shared together. It’s love, but it isn’t romance.

It’s me searching for your smile.

I know classes have been eating your time, and work tearing at your soul, and I care about you in the kind of way that seeing your smile brings my own, especially when I’ve found the way to help it roll its joyous way across your face. I don’t bring these flowers because the candlelit dinners soothe my soul, and the gestures don’t bring me nearly as much comfort. I do this for you.

And at last, that beautiful smile rolls across your face, and I know you understand.