A boy wrote my daughter POETRY!

I'm not surprised, my daughter is wonderful and beautiful. But, I don't know, it strikes a cord that awakens parental fatherly instincts in me. (I've put the poem at the bottom of this post if you're curious)

Now, when I say my daughter is beautiful, I don't mean she's the trendy clothes and make-up, flirty kind of pretty. She's the jeans and t-shirt, can tear it up on the playstation, A-student, goofy, funny kind of pretty. This is appreciated by me as a dad, as it tends to mean that the Dogs (those predatory, impulse driven boys) will tend to overlook her---which she is cool with because I've given her a heads up on how they operate. But she doesn't go totally unnoticed by the opposite gender, which means I still have to stay on my toes.

I have to say that I think my job is a lot easier than I think it is for the fathers of a lot of girls I see. My daughter and I have a great relationship, and we have lots of discussions. I make rules, but I also take the time to explain how I arrived at those decisions. And it seems that when we can find logic and agreement on these rules, I really don't get a lot of kickback.

For example, middrif shirts. Her mother and I have made the rule that middrif exposing shirts are not allowed (as they tend to awaken the Dogs). And with today's fashions that's a hard thing to get around. But she hangs in there and we've taken the extra steps to get her clothes that we can a) afford, b) that she likes, and c) that we approve of. And we've been very successful. She loves her clothes and she has a look that tends to be very original.

Another item is dating. We are on common ground here. No dating (in the classic sense). It's just a complication in her life that doesn't need to be there right now and for a few years to come. She can hang out with boys, she can have male friends, they can come by the house and visit, whatever---but no romantic stuff. We talk about everything, too. So I don't prohibit her from having crushes on boys or feelings for boys, I don't try to mold her and squash her emotionally, but we talk about her feelings and it helps to put them into perspective. And she's taken all this to heart, to the point that it's become her own personal crusade. She's given speeches in her clubs on it, and makes it very clear with her friends that she likes boys, but dating is out----and then she gets on with the friendship.

And it's really working for her. I had prepared, even when she was just a baby, to someday hold my sobbing daughter with a broken heart and comfort her. But so far, that's never happened. The only talk about boys we've had that was filled with emotion was one that began, "Dad, why do all the boys I like. . .like me back!" I must admit that I wasn't prepared for that. This was at a point that she was standing firm, but the fact that she had feelings that were reciprocated was making things more confusing and difficult. But she's stuck to her guns and it's had the effect of not only keeping her life from unnecessary turmoil (which she is now seeing manifest in the lives of her friends who choose different paths), but it also keeps the boys very interested, it would seem. It makes them crazy, as can be evidenced by the poem below that the boy wrote for class, and later showed to my daughter, telling her it was about her.

I got his permission to put it here, and he was very interested in being credited for it. So here it is, "Angel for a Friend" by William Wilkins.

The memory of her still haunts my thoughts,

The days have grown more painful,

Nights have grown longer and darker,

And yet, through all these feelings and emotions,

I plead to heaven to keep this image from fading.

She carries a sense of presence,

An aura of kindness engulfs her,

A warm feeling strikes the heart,

Just as one sees her walking so elegantly,

Like a swan's feather gently drifting on the ocean's current.

Her cool patient eyes relax all whom she gazes upon,

They would impale me like a knife,

Forcing me to realize the regrets of my sins,

The depths so great it was fear beyond thought.

Her beauty is so remarkable,

It dazzles like a full moon's light,

She shines like the stars that button up the sky,

The one candle burning through all of this darkness,

Yet many unworthy eyes look her way with desire.

To her, in her group of friends,

I must look an ordinary passerby.

When our eyes met, she left her posse and changed my life forever,

With one word, she brightened my life,

with one simile I was overpowered with love,

She just took my hand and simply said, "Hi".

See? Dog-gone it, now I have to sit on my porch with the shotgun again.

Just kidding.

Sort of.