Her hands caress your jacket
Each time she sees you
No matter the years
between
You sparkle something new
Though you remain
Familiar
You ring
a different true
There are a thousand tales
Within yours
She’ll never know them all
She just knows she’s bound to fall
Again
Each time she sees your (type) face

The best part of being an older sister
Is the recycling.  
When a little sister comes to you
Wanting clothes which you outgrew
Looking bright in style.

When a little sister comes to you
With math homework; without a clue
And you can make her smile

When a little sister comes to you
Going through what you’ve been through
Seeking understanding

When a little sister comes to you
And you weave words that still hold true
Never reprimanding

When a little sister comes to you
And you know she’ll never have to do
anything the hard way
alone.

Living so far north in the light
when you have a perch by the sea
the constant in a world of change
night is but a memory, gone by

You find yourself almost eternal
on an eternal plane in your mind
in the day looking out to sea
passed over into a peaceful realm.

Today, the sun peeped shyly
Over the eastern horizon,
I have a feeling she felt conflicted
She’d smiled so brightly the day before
So she couldn’t help feeling downcast.
I saw her furtively stealing
Glances at humanity and my heart couldn’t
Take it no more, it developed a set of wings
And flew up to her, a quick embrace
And she felt relatively at ease.
She descended her hallowed throne
And proceeded on in her usual daily routine.
I am elated that “I saved the day.

You are so proud
Of your defenses.

The strong fundament of constructions built to keep everyone out.

And you in.