I could feel the fire in my abdomen,
As she b r e a t h e d her way into life...
Entering the world with a resounding cry...
[We knew she was here.]
Her first steps came, one, two at a time...
And every time she laughed,
Her sapphire blue eyes flashed.
The first time she got angry...
Someone called her name.
The room shook, and then stood silent.
Everyone watched with bated breath,
[She was two years old.]
Her gorgeous golden curls,...
Bounced every time she ran.
Now and then, you would catch a glimpse of silver.
[It could have been the light.]
She attended her first school,
Every child gathered round, awed in her beauty.
Her smile shone, and infected everyone around her.
I remember her first game of catch.
[With l\i/g\h/t\n/i\n/g speed, she caught that ball...]
Her 12th birthday came...and went...
Her hair grew longer...reached her waist...
She hated scissors.
We tried to cut her hair..
[And her scream was heard for three miles.]
Aged 15, growing older,
Locked in the |p|r|i|s|o|n| of her bedroom,
She preferred to spend time with her music,
Alternating between hard rock and easy listening.
Her moods were the same...
She still hated her name.
She had her first serious boyfriend at aged 18.
She was a slender figure...all the beauty of a painting,
[All the attitude of a juvenile delinquent.]
Yet, {occasionally}, you would see that good heart.
(Hidden under a cloud of depression)
At 25, her rebellion over, she reunited with her family...
Waved *goodbye* to her younger self,
And looked for the rainbow, nearby.
[She still infected people with her smiles.]
At 40, her e/l\e/c\t/r\i/c\i/t\y was |controllable..|
When static, she would chatter amiably to anyone,
When kinetic, she would run faster than any athlete.
Now fully trained, she won whole marathons.
45 years old, and her light had begun to fade.
Her eyes still flashed when she grinned...
But she was f a d i n g away.
47 years old, and my little girl was almost [invisible.]
I held her hand as she slipped away...
The last thing I heard was a faint rumble in the distance.
The last thing I saw was the light escape her eyes.
The last thing she said, was her name.
'Storm.'
But, I don't cry...
For If I miss her, all I need to do is look out of the window.
She shows me where she is,
[And her smile still lights up the room.]
Gold trophy winner
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