||III. Tory, my sky child
Your angel wings are felt but never seen,
It's fun to watch you flex them, cherub-boy.
Always poised for flight, you stop and preen,
Remembering your mortal form in joy.
And we who know the blessing of your love
Warm ourselves by Tory's glowing heart.
The spirits of the dourest feel its shove,
And breathe the bubbling joy that you impart.
Teen years cast a shadow on the cheer:
You're almost sometimes sorta grumpy now.
But I can wait; I know the gloom's veneer--
It's just your adolescent rebel bow.
You're a living candle, blessing earth,
Luminous, an angel since your birth.