To My Youngest Daughter (Age 17)
by Michael Doyle

Sometimes, when you're not here,
Your traces are hard to make disappear.
I feel you near, sitting in your chair,
And your heart feels like my favorite snare.

Sometimes, I can almost hear your voice,
Playfully sneering like a playful choice.
Telling me contrary things that you believe right.
I miss the days when you would let me hold you tight.

I remember the day you decided to trace
The lines and nuances of my face.
From the same eyes to the same heart,
I knew our love would never part.

It's an amazing thing to be a father
And to know that I have two lovely daughters.
One an artist, and you, smarter than smart.
Now that you've grown older, I value most your heart.

Watching as you take this world on
And no longer believing in the tales of once upon.
I see you dare as you stand to sincerely deliver
And in a moment of pride, it makes me shiver.

I remember the day you decided to trace
The lines and nuances of my face.
From the same eyes to the same heart,
I knew our love would never part.

Like a spy standing in the house of love,
I watch your courage, even cursing the above.
You are your own kind of warrior, and I'm proud.
You have your own road, and to me that's allowed.

I see the wondrous things that you complete,
And truly believe you'll never know defeat.
I can only hope that you hear and realize,
The true admiration that shines in my eyes.

I remember the day you decided to trace
The lines and nuances of my face.
From the same eyes to the same heart,
I knew our love would never part.

(c) July 8, 2026   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved