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.