For years I was just Mom, my children small.
They looked into my eyes to learn the way.
I kept them close to kiss them should they fall
or wander off, from my protection stray.
I wondered at their gaily spreading wings
and knew the day would come they chose to fly
and in the way of tender growing things
shed their chrysalis, take to the sky.
My sadness held within as they took flight,
they did not see the net I held below.
Marveling that colors are so bright,
I lay in summer fields to watch them go.
We spend these passing days as life demands
but sometimes…they still light upon my hands.
Nice poem and illustration. I hope your granddaughter is getting well:)
Hi Bookbabie~
Thanks for peeking in and reading this one…I appreciate your taking the time to let me know you did….and for the well wishes~*s*
~A
Hello Sister:
I just stopped by to say hello and see what you were up to. I feel the poem …I’m still running around with the net but my little butterfly stings me when she notices it there. Who knew butterflies had stingers?
Love You,
Nan
Marveling that colors are so bright,
I lay in summer fields to watch them go.
I liked that part.