Mother's Love

A delicately folded paper crane

Of sharp points and stern lines

But possessing that subtle grace

Perches on glossy mahogany

Beside a porcelain tea set, two dice

And a floppy doll with black button eyes

A love-worn bear guards your dreams tonight

That beloved companion now clutched

In your tiny fist of dimpled knuckles,

Pudgy fingers and cleanly clipped nails

I drizzle dulcet murmurs in your ear

And only the whoosh of car tires grazing

Wet asphalt punctures the easy, clear silence

Summer's warm breath mildly ghosts

In to us through gaping windows

Briefly fluttering the violet velvet drapes

The vibrant hues of sunset have all bled dry

Leaving in their wake the corpse of night

Broken intermittently by speckled starlight

A virgin moon pours her vanilla beams

Onto your rosy nose and cheeks

Your ebony tresses are splashed across the pillow

Like the mess of a toppled bottle of ink

I tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear

And allow a single finger to linger

You own the honey-milk beauty of youth

And the steadfast grace of an old soul

Adulthood has jaded me:

A rustier, duster edition of you, my dear

You are the one thing I know I did right

My perfect little darling delight