Her soft glowing touch is like the morning sun.
Those sparkly eyes that shine in the silver moon.
Her skin soft as a cloud which radiates like a sticky bun.
Her voice is gentle like the wind like sugar on a spoon.
She cries for her mom during the hard times.
But she doesnt ocme home to that beautiful smile.
As she gets sick she looks as is she were a dime.
Leaves blowing is the sound of a long lasting mile.
The raspy voice calling out to you is haunting.
A head full of harif curly as can be.
Home alone in the night is never ending and taunting.
Her dreams are like the flowing sea.
So as you can see she's the most precious thing.
For a mother its just a constant intervening.
I read a few of your poem and of the few I glance at I must say this one is probally some of your best work. It forces the reader to capture the moment and the mere feeling within it. Title of it is a little iffy but great work!