Poems (Odom)/My Baby's Shoe
MY BABY'S SHOE.
A tiny shoe of shining bronze, With rumpled, blue rosette;The shape of baby's little toes Imprinted in it yet.
A dainty, pretty little thing, But dear—so dear to me;In memory of a little girl I never more may see.
A fair, sweet child, with golden hair That waved about her brow,And hung in floating, sunny curls Upon her neck of snow.
A dimpled, rosy baby cheek My lips have often pressed,When close against my loving heart It rested on my breast.
My one, sweet, precious baby girl, With eyes of deepest blue—The little feet are cold and still That wore this pretty shoe.
The waxen hands are folded now, No more to grasp my dress;The childish lips that death had kissed I never more shall press.
I lift my eyes to heaven, and feel That she is happy there;But tears fall on the little shoe My baby used to wear.