Wayward
By Jack Joseph Smith
Anywhere near sorrow,
did I ever dream to watch you sleep
Ignoring that which time heaves,
over the little things of being female
Always a grace with your wonder,
beyond game, always an adventure;
to where you areg
The way you will your seconds,
always a knack of astonishment;
born inconceiveably first in your face
Though I catch your eye,
never taking it away again,
still I have this proof in my hands;
that even against and after your age,
you will never have anything to fear,
from pain