Dear My Dear

I agree to make a pinky promise

Even it is funny for grown up man like me

You make me swallow my pride

I know I have no choice to make

You rule, though

You are my treasure

My baby girl

Your eyes represent mom of yours

Your small fingers remain me to hers

Your lips make me miss hers

You are my only girl

I never get tired walking to the barn

Holding your hand along the path

Between the wheat field

Like I used to do with mom of yours

Riding horse in the farm like I did with her

I miss your mom, baby girl

I miss her now

Even I can see her smiles upon you

You are my baby girl

You rule

courtesy: anniversary-gifts-by-year.com