Bring me snowdrops always,
These are simple,
Little bells of sunshine,
Tiny stem,
Petals white,
Purest little flower,
Eight years growing,
She’s my valentine.
For my little Anna, sunshine every morning.
Tag: daughter
Mary-Kate
Overtones and undertones of beauty all displayed
Upon rough-tumbled mattress, here no feathered bed,
Interwoven tresses cascading onto floor,
Rumpled cloth and denim, silken-casualled lore.
Breathed in creamed complexion, undisturbed in sleep,
Portrait of simplicity, in dreamland while I peep.
Softened heart displayed on lips,
Relaxing in repose,
Daughter number two, unthorned,
Delicately dazzling rose.
Mothers’ Eyes
Reposes she
With cheeks and brow so fair
Image framed
By skeins of flaxen hair
Puckered lips
Forming glowing pout
Recumbent God
Seen without one doubt
Lashes flutter
In dreams of golden flight
Tucked into bed
Safe love secures her night
No demons here
No haunted childhood psyche
A child at rest
All should have her like
Portraits of injured innocence
Suffuse my working hours
Souls may keen
At battles without power
A helping hand
From those who know the just
Love them all
As adults we most surely must
A little one
Though worldly without wise
Compassion demands
We see all through mothers’ eyes.
Dancing Daughter
Picture perfect,
Pointed toes,
She moves with sheer delight.
Twirling, whirling princess –
Sings and dances
With all her might.
A voice raised true
And arms out flung,
She does not have a care.
Her heart extols her virtue
No audience is there:
Except for me, a smiling mum
Watching through the glass.
Wishing childlike confidence
Might last when youth has passed.
scottishmomus 