Holidays · Parenthood · Poetry

Your Mom

Your frame so small, delicate and new,
with dampened skin like the morning dew.
Snuggled in my arms, here at last,
suddenly those months are over so fast.
I dreamt of your smile, and pink button-nose,
the dimples, the giggles, and ten tiny toes.
The most beautiful baby, perfectly nestled
in fleece sound asleep, warm, and settled.
Days from before, now fuzzy and old,
new adventures ahead, little people to mould.
Formed in my belly, but grown first in my heart,
the best lied ahead I knew from the start.
Though I created your life, I’m indebted to you
You made me your mom, no gift compares to.
Watching you shape into your own little souls,
is a joy, and privilege, the gold of all goals.
Each year on your birthday, we celebrate you
A little bigger, and brighter, and smarter too.
So proud and so grateful, my heart overflows,
how special I feel as the mom that you chose.
In sync as a family, where you go I go too
There’s no you without me, and no me without you.

Written by Afton Murphy166523_190305597651667_2091778_n533316_10150966899081804_853799587_n

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