In the quiet corners of her mind,
Where whispers of doubt softly tread,
Sylvia cradles her tender thoughts,
As new life blooms beneath her heart.

Her pen dances with ink of dreams,
Tracing paths of love and fear,
In each verse, a mother’s breath,
Seeking solace in the written word.

Through shadows of her restless soul,
She finds a light in every cry,
A lullaby woven with trembling hands,
Hoping to shield her child from stormy skies.

Yet in the mirror of her heart,
Reflections of a complex love reside,
Sylvia, a mother, a poet, entwined,
In the tapestry of life she writes.