You are the last plum in the icebox.
Every kind of impossible
warrior of wonder,
determined to make us
You will reach the kitchen sink yourself
Or fall into the garbage trying.
You kiss away your family’s owies
and do gentle to baby Jolie.
Adeleigh, your face is a peach
on the counter
near the window at noon,
Your voice rounds out sounds
of gold coins in a coffer.
Your songs are lullabies;
You treasure chest you.
The Lord will prosper you.
You have given us gummy bears,
and wrap around hugs.
Your wonder will wake up this world.
Impossible little thief of rational
We all coo for you, we giggle and dance
Anything to make you smile;
the kingdom is yours little one.
We lay awake and pray and weep for the
hope that is in you child.
You are set apart,
A pioneer fashioned by the architects
of this empire
your angels always see the face of God,
and we are humbled in your presence.
How like a cup of water you are,
how like a cold plum in summer.