Alight with dreams in a mirroring mist,
beyond each day her children's futures exist
Treasures in plenty for the souls of wise,
comes the whispers from a mother's eyes
Always fresh linens to embellish the beds,
softest of pillows to comfort their heads
With cuddles prompting the peace filled nights,
a last day's kiss graces dawn's purist lights
From cradle until eternity slips away,
her love follows with never a delay
Throughout the years, placed in heart to hold,
reasons for life - she watches unfold
Giving her all in the lull of a song,
counting blessings -- the years pass along
Simplest of things always seemed worthwhile,
prayers were offered on an endearing smile
Laying her head in everlasting rest,
nestled comfort upon an angel's breast
Like the children taken to her own,
the dreams of heaven now leads to home
Mother I see you in my dreaming mists,
throughout my days your future exists
Treasures are plenty for a soul of wise,
I am a whisper from my Mother's eyes
© C.E.Vance
Love and respect for the elders
Love and respect for the elders oozes from your poem. Nice. Why not the rose minus the scary scull.
©bishu
Thank you.
Thank you.