In the quiet moments of dawn’s first light,
She weaves her dreams with threads so bright,
Her hands, though weary, never fail,
A guardian’s love, in every tale.

Her laughter echoes through the halls,
A melody that lifts and calls,
She mends the wounds, unseen by all,
Catching us when we start to fall.

Her eyes hold stories of old and new,
A compass guiding us through and through,
Her spirit, fierce, yet tender too,
A lighthouse in the darkest blue.

In her embrace, we find our peace,
Her love, a bond that will not cease,
She is the heart, the soul, the song,
In her, we find where we belong.