THE GIFT

I thought them beautiful,
Picked as many as I could hold,
Wondered if I dared
Present them personally.
Something made me bold,
I braved his parents
On their porch, managed
The front walk, the steps -
"Is Bill home?"  (Certainly 
They were seen behind my back)!
He filled the open door
As he filled my world with sky.
"I brought you these. . . ."
He blushed and took my field flowers
Looking down at them instead of me.
But there I stood
And looked at him,
Beautiful, strong and tall.
And I was glad
That I was eight, old enough
To give my heart away.

			Lucille Murphy