Hidden Treasure by Adonna Marie Gipe

I recently read this delightful poem on Fan Story, a writing website. This poem is by my friend Adonna, Marie Gipe. She's an exceptionally talented writer, and had penned a vast array of wonderful poems. If you should enjoy this poem, she has a book available on Amazon titled - Songs Before Dawn. It's filled with all manner of great poems. I've never cared for poetry before, but after reading various offerings from some of the poets on FS, I've found a new appreciation for poetry, something  even I am surprised by. I hope you enjoy this.

                    Hidden Treasure  -  by Adonna Marie Gipe

                      A young girl named Angela, quiet and slight,

                      lay down in her bedroom to ponder her plight.

                      It wouldn't be easy, but it would be right.

                      She asked God to guide her by His gentle voice.

                     She placed her hand over the baby, now showing,

                     a bulge in her abdomen, healthy and growing,

                     and spoke to her daughter, without really  knowing,

                   " I always will love you, but this is God's choice.

                    "The day you are born, which will be in a while,

                    your beautiful presence will make someone smile,

                    and though I'll be weeping, I'll love you, my child,

                    and know you will bless your new world beyond measure.

                    "I'll think of you always. I could not forget

                    how much I have loved you, though we've never met,

                    and though it may hurt, I'll try not to regret

                    this difficult choice... giving up my sweet treasure."

                    As daffodils sprang from the once -frozen ground

                   and wild lilies covered the hilltops around,

                   young Angela knew the right home had been found -

                   Her young child would grow strong and be loved all her life.

                   The church bells rang wildly the day she was born,

                   as Christians rejoiced in the bright Easter morn.

                   But Angela wept, all alone and forlorn,

                   the pain in her heart like the stab of a knife.

                   She named the child Lily, in honor of Spring,

                  but never once spoke of this most secret thing.

                 "May she bloom like a flower and make the world sing,"

                  she whispered so often in her private prayers.

                  The years trundled by, and young Angela grew,

                  becoming a woman with so much to do,

                  though silently suffering. Nobody knew

                  she dreamed of the child that was not hers, but theirs.

                  Alone by the river she wandered one day,

                 and wept for the baby she'd given away...

                 just seeking some peace and to mourn and to pray

                 for the treasure now gone, but not from her heart.

                 The river ran wide. Temptation was great.

                 The waters were deep. As the hour grew late

                 she wondered if anguish would ever abate

                 for the loss of the one she had loved from the start.

                 The moon and the stars were not shining that night.

                 Cold fog had shrouded and dimmed the streetlight.

                 She pondered her loss and another's delight, 

                 and the child she had longed to hold close to her breast.

                She leaned from the bridge overlooking the water

                and let the tears fall for the loss of her daughter.

                One brief thought of leaping, but reason had taught her

                she'd done the right thing and must not be depressed.

                 Her thoughts turned to Mary, whose child from her womb,

                 was nurtured and loved, from his birth to the tomb,

                 through ridicule, scoffing, the cross and the gloom

                 She knew it had hurt more than anyone guessed,

                yet she, in obedience, gave up her son,

                that others might know Him, the Savior, the One-

                unselfishly yielding, that God's will be done,

                and down through the years, all the world had been blessed.

                The fog swirled around her as darkness increased,

                but suddenly Angela felt a sweet peace.

                There on the bridge every doubt was released,

                and new joy arose from the depths of her soul.

                She turned from the river and started for home

                when a face rose before her, so much like her own-

                the face of a girl now becoming well-known,

                whose virtue and talent the critics extol.

                 The beautiful face in the window looked out

                 from a car passing slowly as she turned about,

                 and she knew it was Lily...without any doubt-

                 Her baby now grown into a lovely young girl.

                 She waved to the one in the window and smiled,

                 amazed she was seeing what once was her child...

                 a gifted young woman whose voice had beguiled

                 and captured the hearts of  a sad, weary world.

                "I'm thankful, dear God, you allowed me to see

                the eyes of the daughter that once grew in me,

                and now that I've found her, no more mystery.

                Her name is not Lily, but beautiful Pearl,

                and she is the treasure I gave to the world."