When she was young, she often dreamed
Of one day being grown
Now, her wishes have been redeemed
By a child of her own
The baby cradled in her arms
And nestled near her heart
Has been the object of her charms
Right from the very start.

Matured, from when she was a child
Dressed in ribbons and lace
The countless insight she has filed
Falls firmly into place
When she looks at her newborn’s smile
And then, becomes aware
Her child has made her life worthwhile
By answering each prayer.

When she was young, she often yearned
For days when she was older
Now, all the lessons she has learned
Are hers, alone, to shoulder
Yet, she will bear each one in grace
As each has paved the way
To the glow of her newborn’s face
And her first Mother’s Day.

© 2007 – Jill Eisnaugle’s Poetry Collection