In the quiet hours of dawn’s embrace,
Sylvia cradles dreams in tender hands,
Whispers of lullabies weave through the air,
A mother’s heart in her gentle lands.

Beneath the weight of words unsaid,
She finds solace in the morning light,
Amidst the shadows of her wandering mind,
A child’s laughter guides her through the night.

The ink of her soul bleeds on the page,
Each line a testament to love’s sweet pain,
In motherhood’s delicate, endless dance,
She finds both joy and sorrow’s refrain.

Yet through the storm of silent cries,
Her spirit soars on fragile wings,
In every tear, a story unfolds,
A tapestry of the life she brings.