Despite The Tears, Second Letter
( by GDMartin
To my daughter, Michelle, address still unknown)


I hear the laughter of a child
trapped in the halls of time;
like Jack, my spill right down the hill
outlives the nurs'ry rhyme.
Oh, did you hear the tale, Michelle,
"The Young Girl And Her Dad"?
The Queen stripped him from role of knight,
the story's old, but sad.
A White Knight, how he wished he'd been,
seen through his daughter's eyes.
If there is gain for suff'ring pain,
I'm sure he'd win the prize.

Sweet visions of the past replay
beneath his hair of gray;
the hat she wore, and at age four,
a walk they took one day.
She sang to him the song she'd learnt,
"America's Greatest Hero",
Then stooped to pick up colored stones,
while counting Ten to Zero.
It may be true, too many miles
and far too many years,
had made a gap too wide to ebb,
or cross, despite the tears.

Still, deep inside the boundless pit-
someplace where love has been,
our lives march on, as mem'ry blears,
the world comes marching in.
Though we both aged, I hope you'd know,
the passing of the years
can't stop my love, and pain, thereof,
nor hope, despite the tears.