Your much loved face so worn with care
I visit in my mind today
I miss so much your fun and flair
Your energy and kindly way.
Your hair now shot with silver thread
The grey eyes tired in their place
A blessing on your ancient head
A victor in the world’s last race.
                        Your cheeks now pale and heavy lined
                        The strength of character always there
                        Stares out at me and fills my mind
                        And gives me refuge from all care.
                        When I in turn do this road take
                        My mother’s steps I wish to tread
                        Then in my turn an example make
                        Now I am mother in her stead.
This entry was posted in Poetry.

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