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Tia White
Poems
Jan 2016
Child of Mine
With tiny little hands,
she touches my face.
The outline of my features,
her fingertips gently trace.
A blessing in my life,
this sweet little girl.
With dimples in her smile,
and a head full of curls.
In her step there is a skip,
everwhere she goes.
And within her hazel eyes,
a light that is aglow.
This sweet child of mine
shows me the meaning of true love.
The purest form of love
that I could ever dream of.
Written by
Tia White
Georgia
(Georgia)
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