Soft whispers at early day,
A mother’s warm embrace,
The dusk’s giver of my way.
Tracks leading to loving base,
Her garden’s comfort stays.
Wind whispers dance,
Playful butterflies sway.
While treasures prance,
Sweet birds singing lay,
A journey of loving chance.
Mother’s garden dares claim
A wooing heart’s burden,
Conquered with no shame,
Planted seeds love and fade,
Tender touch didn’t blame.
She loves her delicate child,
With tender care proclaims
Her nurturing touch wild.
Care for broken hearts lifts the blues,
When fear inside collides.
My mother’s garden stew,
Soft loving nurturance abides.
~Toshimatsung
