Lily, such a gentle name,
Like a whisper in life’s garden,
The melody of a lullaby just sung.
Sweet baby girl, now Miss Lily White,
Grown up and blessed with velvet
brown eyes and skin the color of melba toast;
She is glazed with brown sugar and a dash
Of sepia mellowed sunshine…
I wonder who named her Lily.
Perhaps they knew she would sparkle.
Lily, quietly spilling like a song
That lingers in your memory and
I met this young lady at a conference and knew this poem had to be written…