Their smiles twinkle like the stars in the skies;
their mother thought as she smiled down upon
her newborns. ‘Lo! how sweet to feel their help-
less forms; to nestle and keep the bosom warm.’
She soothes with lullabies beneath the moon.
The birds in the branches whistled and crooned;
as the years passed by with pleasure and gloom.
Mother imbue like seeds these values and norm;
to help us tread through sun and storm. Observe
path of peril and shun its harm; worries need be
tucked beneath our arm.
Roses sweet round stem and thorn;
Bear bud as though a wish unborn.
Photo credits: www.kmberggren.com
Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United