I've always been a morning person. "Up and at 'em", as they say. My daughter, Stacie, is quite the opposite. She spent many a late night keeping me awake when she was a child. Now, it's her turn. Her little Cassandra has an agenda of her own. So, in loving revenge, I dedicate this to you, Stacie . . .

When my children were babies, I would spend hours by their crib, watching them in their slumber, adoring everything about them. I was so attuned to them, I could hear them breathe from the next room.

As they grew, I lost that magic, or so I thought. After a recent separation from them, I was delighted to find myself under their spell once again, captivated by the awe and wonder that is them.

The inspiration for this poem came from a scene at our supper table. There my husband sat with a "Barbie Doll' necklace on sipping out of a very small tea cup and looking at our four year old daughter with such love and adoration that I thought "There is nothing this wonderful Dad wouldn't do for her." And so a poem is born in dedication to Dad's everywhere.

I wrote this poem for my Dad.

This was a tribute on Father's Day to a wonderful father whom I so dearly admire.

As I hugged my mother and left the quiet hospital, I tucked this poem into my mother's hand, asking her to read it later that evening, as she spent yet another long and difficult vigil, beside "her mother's" hospital bed.

This poem was a gentle thank you to my kind and loving mother, who's warmth and love guides me daily.

My Grandma has 8 children, 20 grandchildren, and about 17 great grandchildren, and yet she always makes time for each and ever one of us.

Dedicated to my wonderful grandma, I love you and will always remember those hot buttered yeast biscuits everyone likes so well.

I wrote this poem in 1986 because I couldn't find a high school graduation card that said exactly how I felt about my daughter.

This was a dedication to my Grandfather who passed away several years before he could see his first grandchild born. Each year since he's been gone, our family has written a poem on the anniversary of his death to remind him that we love him.

I am named after him, and so is my son.