My Mom: A Guiding Light in Every Storm

Poetry Image

In the quiet of the morning light,
Her gentle hands weave dreams anew,
Through whispered words, she guides my flight,
In her embrace, the skies are blue.

Her laughter, a melody that heals,
A beacon shining through the night,
In her love, every wound conceals,
A guardian through dark and bright.

Her strength, a river deep and wide,
Carving paths through stones and time,
With every step, she’s by my side,
Her courage, the rhythm of my rhyme.

In her eyes, the world becomes clear,
Through her heart, I find my way,
A tapestry of love held dear,
My mom, my dawn, my every day.

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