Poem: Cookies are Optional

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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