What brush has painted this?
The strokes that glide down each shaft of beautiful hair?
The blending of paint to the eyes?
The intricate, perfect mouth?
The fastinating skin?
The shoulders always ready to bear a small girl's head, or a strong man's hug?
The inviting gaze into my face?
The voice so easy to hear in this picture?
What brush sweeps across this heart?
The strokes that sing out from deep within?
The movement of her doubts and fears, and conquering spirit rising?
The stirring of love for all that she has been given?
The gifts held wisely, ready to share at any moment?
The gifts held wisely, ready to share at any moment?
The incredible friend who so freely loves me, her mum?
Would I have known such an artist gave me this portrait 29 years ago, I would have knealt before her sooner.
1 comment:
Mom, you need to be writing like this more often. You have always had a way with words and we need more of it!
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