Her name is Innocence

Her name is Innocence.

I rarely see her now.

She dances upon the wind,

and when she looks down, for surely she does,

Innocence must see the people below, 

Begging,

Praying,

Hoping, 

Wishing,

for her to come back.

But Innocence chooses few.

Her favorite being children.

When she stays longer than expected,

strongly guarded she is.

I rarely see her now,

Although she is spoken of frequently.

She is a secret torn from unwilling lips,

A breath in the wind.

She laughs as they claw at the sky.

But I?

I build a home for her.

Deep in my heart.

I fill it with pictures of 

Love,

Dreams,

Life,

Beauty,

Freedom,

Purity,

Kindness,

Generosity,

Chastity,

Naive,

the children of sweet Innocence,

for she favors children,

in hopes that she will visit.