Momma’s Girl

Smiling Girl

The slight
caramel glow
of her
rounded shoulders,
her plump tummy
~ whispers of our
first summer ~
memories floating by
like the
soft cotton tufts
in the humid
June air.

As she takes her perch
upon my side,
instinctively her
chubby arm
wraps tightly
around mine,
anchoring her there.

The comfort I find
in that small habit
overwhelms me
more than I’m prepared for.

I know
how much my heart
longs to see her
each morning
as I quietly
approach her,
sleeping sweetly.
Butterscotch tendrils
curl haphazardly
around her
angel’s face.

A subconscious smile
dances across her
rosebud lips.
A slight dimple
the only
“imperfection”
in her creamy complexion,
glistening
with traces of a
deep summer sleep.

Gently,
I lift her to me,
bringing her home
to the crook
in my neck,
where we both
awaken
to the deliciously sweet
fragrances
of one another.

I wonder
if she treasures
these moments
as much as I do.

Then,
I feel the squeeze
of her grasp
clinging to me again,
and
I smile
knowing that
she is
her
Momma’s Girl.

5 thoughts on “Momma’s Girl

  1. The teeth poking up in the photo melt my heart! And the poem makes me want to have a writing group soon 🙂

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