Paris In Springtime

Poem By Scarborough Gypsy

We were blessed with an angel,
The day that she came,
Only a child so perfect,
Could carry her name,
I’d never imagined,
How precious she’d be,
Even now I’m amazed,
That she came from me,
They say Paris in springtime,
Is a magical place,
Like the beauty I see,
When I look at her face,
Pariss in springtime,
Is what they gave me,
I will love her forever,
And Eternity.

2005 - For my first borne, Pariss (spelt double 's') .

Comments about Paris In Springtime

your daughter sounds just as perfect as my son :)
Hallo Cyst, What a lovely poem, it brought a tear to my eye. Pariss is a beautifull girl and was a gorgous baby, (just like you!) love Gill xx
A very touching poem. Philippa Lane

Rating Card

4,3 out of 5
6 total ratings

Other poems of GYPSY

Forty Is An 'F' Word

I look into the mirror
By accident these days
For it’s not my own reflection
That meets my startled gaze

Cup Of Rain

He’s written his rules
In invisible ink
She’s thirsty for answers
But can’t get a drink

Love In A Teacup

Shop of curiosity, dimly lit within
wall to wall and floor to ceiling,
a museum full of memories
bursting at the seams,

Digitally Correct

I lay awake in my bed
Awaiting only sleep
Last cycle of the dish machine
Stopped – and then went BEEEEP!

Alcohol Abuse Is Not An Addiction

Am so afraid of how you feel
Listening to what you’ve said
Chills me to the bone
Our whole existence is on shaky ground

Deep Within

Once again alone and lost,
This empty feeling is the cost
Of many regrets and dreams I’ve tossed
Onto the heap of mental compost,