This is a lovely poem, written by Neil Gaiman for Tori Amos’ daughter (his goddaughter). The story is that he wrote it when she was a newborn, and it was calligraphed and framed on the wall of her nursery. Apparently so many people asked for copies of it that he finally just published it. Gaiman is not an author I think of as being super soft and cuddly, which, along with his soft British cadences, is part of the charm.
…Dull days at forty, false friends at fifteen;
Let her have brave days and truth.
Let her go places that we’ve never been;
Trust and delight in her youth.
Ladies of Grace, and Ladies of Favour,
And Ladies of Merciful Night,
This is a prayer for a Blueberry Girl,
Grant her your Clearness of Sight.
Words can be worrisome, people complex;
Motives and manners unclear.
Grant her the wisdom to choose her path right,
Free from unkindness and fear.
Let her tell stories, and dance in the rain,
Somersaults, tumble and run;
Her joys must be high as her sorrows are deep,
Let her grow like a weed in the sun…