make a firm declaration, and
strike out on their own road.
I like bold daughters who hesitate just enough,
daven just a little, to be balanced and nimble along the way,
to be sure-footed in the inevitable ruts and gravel and rain.
I like bold daughters who throw a sly look
to all who expect a fall.
Blahblah to old papas and cautious mamas
who forget, for foggy fear's sake: bold!
I like bold daughters who say with every breath:
I want the best, and forego all filler and fluff
until the best comes along or
I can make the best myself!
I like bold daughters who need the best
like a brush needs paint,
like dead paper needs living green ink,
like an empty old plate needs a ripe new pear.
I love my daughters three,
bold and best they be, they be,