The final poem of The Goldenheart Cycles, written to his totem-muse Goldenheart, this poem has consistently been named one of his most popular works of all time. From 1995.
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I ate a daisy today. (to settle a bet between my child
and my wife if I could or would.) Daddy is not so ancient
that he has forgotten the value of play in the lurking wild
of a newly discovered world. Mommy has been patient,
but loves and lives for and with this world, and late
at night, while our children sleep, goes on a date
with me in the kitchen, dancing strange emotions stored
in cookie jar hearts that never break. bare feet on a wooden floor.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.