Each December dawn
my daughters tread
an icy path
across the lawn
to wait for Daddy
who straps on
protective helmet,
girds up thick armor-gray jacket,
and mounts
high-sprocketed steed.
These damsels atop driveway
huddle in bathrobes and
bunny slippers
to watch their Knight on shining 10-speed
pedal off
to work.
But before Daddy begins daily journey,
they quickly
draw out arrow
from quiverful heart,
notch hand to mouth
then,
like a crossbow,
arms release in a forward arc
casting off a
kiss.
Each daughter watches
as Daddy catches empassioned arrow
piercing
the heart full force,
empowering a soul to keep on course.
(c) 1998 Michael All Rights Reserved
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