Blow the Wind Southerly.
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|Godparents are like
angels on the ramparts
Overlooking children in their care,
Doing out of pleasure their assigned parts,
Placed by Providence to stand guard there.
All of us need parents of the spirit
Residing at the borders of our lives,
Eager guardians we need not merit,
Nurturing a nature that survives.
The soul must see before it understands,
Shaped well or ill by those whose deeds are hands.