For Beautiful Sasha

Were you my Daughter, I too would hold

Your childhood sacred, and allow you to grow

You and Malia are of equal import

That's ever clear.

Your strength may differ, your color your build

Sweet Child one Day you will see the you as we see

You may think forgotten, but no my love

The Nation watched you as you grew.

And ah!

Such grace and shy reserve

If I could but tell you just how proud

Your carriage, shoulders back, head held high

That mischief I see reflected in eye's.

Your Father I assume

Gentle, and sweet, yet determined to fight

For a place you think that's not in sight.

Your physical make, your inner strength.

Your Mother it's clear

But little one what I want to say

Were you my Child I too would try

To hide you away for no less than

Age forty three.

Disclaimer: Keeping a machete is similar to keeping a loaded shotgun. Every Culture has it's way to scare perspective suitors for a Daughters affection.

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