Ann Thompson

A Mother’s Daydream

Time passes.
Babies who swayed in
her arms,
now tall and strong
wave goodbye.

Moments forever lingering.
Outstretched arms
wrapped around her,
as bright eyes search for hers,
soaking in her abundant love.

Little voices leaving
an indelible mark on her heart,
chanting, imitating, questioning.

Cheek to cheek,
she savors the sweet moment,
knowing that chaos
is ready to burst.

But time passes.
What is lost to memories,
is gained in loving satisfaction,
knowing that she escorted
babies to boys, boys to men.

Good men,
the image and essence of their
father,
her forever love.