A short poem on the never-ending nature of motherhood, and the quiet moments in between.
Stars pierce the night sky
and a cloak of darkness wraps
itself around the little house.
Inside, the wood fire crackles
warming her family through the night.
Children sleep soundly
under bundles of blankets
their sweet faces at peace.
Echos of arguments, laughter and love
reverberate through the bones of the home.
The old kitchen table bathed in a soft glow of light
as she sets the kitchen to rights,
her body weary but her heart full.
Ready to do it all again
tomorrow.
Posts
