The child
She was a different child
So unlike the rest a mystery
Not defiant nor yet meek and mild
Biding her time hiding something wild
Often she went missing for days
They grew not to worry for her
Assuming she had magic ways.
Mother nature had her in her care.
She thrived and grew like a camilleon
Carrying an aura of colour as she went
Filling their heads like a loved song
A calming presence a soft scent
One day like a whisper she was gone.
Some of the light of lives deminished
Her metamorphosis was at last done
She spread her wings Ties to them finished.
willowdot21 
