Baby Girl

Putti

Her head is graced by one lone curl
My newborn, tiny, baby girl!
Another gift from God who gives
To man: and by His grace man lives.

I ask her: whence those little toes?
“From dancing on a rainbow rose.”
Whence comes your tiny lock of hair?
“A ray of star-shine plucked somewhere.”
And whence the blue in your two eyes?
“From gazing into heaven’s skies.”
Your tiny hands? From whence come they?
“My Maker formed them out of clay.”
Your laughing mouth? How by it came?
“Two blood-red rubies formed the same.”
Your tinkling laugh? Your tiny smile?
“From love of living without guile.”
How came your here? What envoy brings?
“I came here – brought by angel-wings.”

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