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