A Mother's Sonnet

From flaxen wheat your gorgeous hair is made.
A waterfall, it cascades to your waist.
Your eyes are carved from clearest, greenest jade.
I see with hazel flecks that they are laced.

Your voice is as musical as a lyre,
And in your lilting laugh tiny bells ring.
When you are standing up in the church choir,
I’m certain that I hear the Angels sing.

I can’t believe just how much you have grown,
As I watch you gathering in your arms
Two sweet babies all of your very own,
They are the mirror image of your charms.

Perfect daughter. of you I am so proud.
This sonnet’s wrote to tell you so out loud.
………………………………………….

© Copyright 2011 chickpea a.k.a. Patricia Syner (chickpea at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

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