Flames that know no homelier hearth than yours
Expend their warmth in vibrant light.
Readily given are the flowers of undying colour;
The youthful years of sacrifice are not forgotten.
This is your gift to your children and your children's children.
This woman's realm is full of soft extensions,
One womb, two births ,
Two fruits nourished by creative order.
Motherhood recalls the mind, gently soothing away
The stresses from the outside world.
Inside you created a garden of sorts, a solice.
Blending rich rosied fragrance into pictures resplendent.
Yielding form and shape, calm and secure.
This was your generous world enriched and filled
With love for your little daughters.
You should never have left the ethereal sphere,
Yours is forever the world of the child.
Too late it was to save your tender soul
From violent intrusions of the male world.
Too late to save your grown up daughters from your actions.
Long ago and far away - we learn to forgive...