In the quiet corners of a shadowed room,
She weaves her thoughts with threads of gold;
A tapestry of dreams, where silence blooms,
Whispering tales of love untold.

Her hands, though weary, cradle hope’s embrace,
As moonlight dances on the cradle’s edge;
In every tender touch, a sacred place,
A sanctuary bound by whispered pledge.

The night hums softly, a lullaby in flight,
While stars bear witness to her gentle sighs;
She holds the world within her gaze so bright,
A mother’s heart, where endless courage lies.

Yet in the depths of solitude she roams,
Seeking solace in the written word;
A poet’s soul within a mother’s home,
Where echoes of her silent voice are heard.