So Pure...

I want to call you an angel my little one,

But they say angels have feathers, and you have none...

I want to call you my shining star,

But you are near me, and stars are far...

I want to call you the apple of my eye,

But apples can be sour, and that is why...

I cannot call you this and cannot call you that,

Oh! you are so pure, my words fall flat. 

(Babies are so pure. I realize now that parenthood is such a big responsibility. Parents paint a character into the blank canvas of a baby's mind. I hope we do a good job of it.)