My Mother
Sparkling blue, her old eyes shine,
Few wrinkles for 99.6 years,
But there was beauty of truest joy,
Lines like a velvet rose petal,
Childhood memories past come and go,
Her lace shawl covers her tiny shoulders,
Mother Mona Lisa smiles,
Her eyes held mine, so much enfold,
Sitting beside her I am privileged,
My mother, my birth,
My life, all belong to her,
The gentlest, sweetest voice says, “Yes dear,”
She speaks of dreams, hopes and yesterdays,
Today, tomorrow, I see her peace,
Love and joy of life,
Her sparkling blue eyes are memory.
© Yvonne Matheson
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