In the soft whisper of the twilight’s end,
She cradled me with hands worn by toil,
Her smile, a beacon through life’s bends,
Her voice, a melody in the soil.

She moved with grace in the morning light,
A dance of shadows in the early dawn,
Her presence, a comfort in the night,
Her love, a legacy never gone.

Each word she spoke, a gentle caress,
Each laugh, a symphony of the heart,
Her wisdom, a guide through life’s mess,
Her absence, a wound that still smarts.

In the echoes of her silent grace,
I find solace in her memory’s hold,
A mother’s love, no time can erase,
Her story, in my heart, forever told.