A Mother's Love

A poem by Barbara Burrow...

These are the years, the gentle years, 
the soft and sentimental years
    when wee little finger reach and touch
    and little eyes gaze with wonder and trust,
    when you love so tenderly and so so much, 
        these are the gentle years.
 

 
These are the years, the rainbow years, 
the quiet, walk-on-tiptoes years,  
    the years of laughter and smiles and sighs
    when both of you watch with misty eyes
    the tiny bed where a cherub lies, 
        these are the rainbow years.

These are the years, the tender years,
the blissful, sweet-surrender years,  
    when your little treasure from above
    is the soul and purpose and center of
    your plans and dreams and dearest love,  
        these are the tender years.