In the gentle light of dawn's first blush,
She awakens, a marvel, in the morning hush.
Nine weeks young, her eyes alight,
With the wonder of a new day's sight.
Weeks have passed, each morning a gift,
As mother and daughter in dawn's grace drift.
In her awakening, I find my joy,
A chorus of love without alloy.
In her gaze, I see the promise of the day,
A canvas of possibilities, come what may.
Each sunrise, a reminder of life's embrace,
As we greet the day with love's grace.
With each stretch, with each yawn,
I feel the magic of a new dawn.
In her presence, I find my light,
A beacon of hope, shining bright.
Nine weeks young, yet already she's known,
The beauty of mornings, freshly sewn.
In her awakening, I find my delight,
A bond of love that feels just right.
"Morning Magic," the chapter's name,
In the book of motherhood, its flame
Kindles anew with each rising sun,
Guiding us gently, one by one.
In the morning's magic, love's story unfurls,
As a mother and daughter embrace the world's whirls.
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Flowers of Resilience: Poetry for New Mothers
PoetryIn 'Flowers of Resilience: Poetry for New Mothers', journey through the tender moments and heartfelt reflections of a new mother as she navigates the transformative experience of parenthood. Through evocative poetry, each chapter chronicles the joys...
