To whom do I owe this compliment,
this bouquet of flowers so rare,
to whom do I pay a tribute
and with whom can I share.
Who gave the grass beneath my feet,
from where does the sun brightly shine,
this body, these thoughts, this heart within
who or what made it all mine.
I thank you, I thank you,
whatever your name may be,
for the sun, the grass and the flowers,
I thank you for making me.
©1968 Sharron R. McMillan