Mother sonnet
Between her shoulders and her lap is my nest,
Where I used to sit as a princess of the best
As I glance a carnation glittering among lovers;
Looking for a flowery tale on the moon's face,
Trying to find why love is complicated case!
O, mother you were there in every lovely place,
In honey words running to engraft love letters
O, mother, that garland of sonnets around you
Is a sacred incantation I would put under my pillow,
Rains over my bed with hope, peace, and glee,
For them I am only me for you I am the bel-esprit,
You are the poetry and beauty that build up,
The colour and the light of the word mother,
Make me rise up with rays when your roses gather.
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