She’ll stand on the precipice,
A grand two metres high,
Raise her arms like a fledgling
And squeal with toddler charm,
Here I am, Daddy!  Catch me!”  And then, leap.

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Writing 201: Poetry
Assignment — Day 3:

Prompt: Trust
Form: Acrostic
Device: Internal Rhyme

Personal note:  Most of us begin life with a kind of blind trust and slowly learn (after several knocks) to put up a guard.  As I grow older I am working on pulling down the walls which I spent my youth constructing around my heart.  Returning to that childlike faith.  Trust.

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