Once he brought me ribbons - in colors wine and gold,
A promise of the future - sweet victory untold.

Ribbons that were hung with pride - near portraits in the hall,
Believing then, in miracles - that we could have it all.

Those ribbons now lie meaningless - tied neatly with a bow,
A lesson learned that love is the prize - and not who wins the show.

Because ribbons are for ponytails - and gifts under the tree,
And love cannot be measured by Group One, Two or Three.

Author Unknown