Yolanda
On the 17th of August,
21 years ago,
A giral was born;
't was a sight to behold.
The sun was out
and the day'o so fair.
Nothing else mattered then,
not a worry nor care.
But who was this girl?
And why would it matter?
A dreamer? A thinker?
Perhaps an inventor!
Well, it was everything good;
All mixed into one.
And just for good measure,
a sprinkle of fun.
That girl was God's work,
her name was Yolanda.
Her path still unsure,
and prone to meander.
But really who cares,
surely not you you nor me,
For God has our pain.
and we will let it be.
So spread your wings now
like a spring butterfly.
and leap and take flight;
far and try high
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