Poem: Cookies are Optional

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Rich, buttery cookies

fresh from the oven.
The scent winds its way
from the kitchen to
the front door.
Coming home from school
to such delight.
Always with a cold glass of milk
and a chat about
the highlights of the day.

Then I wake up
and wish that had been
my reality
when I was a child.

So I try to
welcome my daughter
with a smile and a kind word
and ask
"Anything interesting
happen today?"
Cookies are optional.
But heart is not.

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