Who is this woman before me?
I knew the child she used to be.
Who is this weaver of magic?
Her little arms once wrapped around me.
The see-er of dreams...
Little eyes I onced kissed to sleep.
The maker of music...
Little fingers that played a drum beat.
This mage who has come to be...
Once measured herself to me.
~ Author ~
Claudette - Florence Brown
Claudette's poem was used on this page with
her permission. Please do not take this or any
of her writings without asking her permission
first! Click on link below to contact author.
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Thank you for allowing me to share your poem.
As one mother to another, your words of this special poem will touch the hearts of all mothers and fathers as they relate to having a child that has become an adult and in the image of themselves, and like a mirror that reflects the love for each other. May God's blessings be with you and yours always . . . .
Kapua'
"A mother holds her children's hands for just
a little while, But she holds their hearts forever."
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