I think, there shall never exist a poem

As Lovely as a child headed into the wild

Armed with a spirit of adventure

And a curious nature befitting of the explorer she is

Wandering off chasing fairies, who is to say they don’t exist

Leading with an absolute assurance that when she turns around, we shall be there

The sun seems to shine within her, spreading on to us

As she picks wildflowers that resemble her wild nature

What a disservice it would be to tame her

Little wanderer

wild to the soul

Ruled by the earth

May she always roam free

Untamed, Uncaged

May she always sing her way home

Chase butterflies, fairies

Pick wild flowers

Be filled with warmth

Wonder and a wild heart.


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