Mirrored softly in image true,
a sight of sights behold ~
timely one now held within
your frame of faded gold.
I stared into the oval mirror,
in awe of what I found.
Where did the little child now hide,
within Mama's dressing gown?
Scented in sweet day's delight
a child no more than ten ~
so tiny in her mama's clothes,
worn time and time again.
Cheeks ablush with pinkened kiss,
twirling for mama's bright eyes ~
neither minding, with love and laughter
that the clothes were not my size.
High-heeled shoes clicked 'round and 'round,
dancing rhythm to my giggling glee.
Mama smiled at those silly antics.
How her smile did comfort me.
Years went by ~ oh, how they flew!
Yet, the mirror it stayed with time.
Standing there to share the laughter
In Mama's life, and mine.
Now as I stare in silvered awe,
upon reflection true,
so grown and aged ~ within the mirror,
Mama's eyes I see there, too.
Stepping nearer the mirror's view
I see my mama's smile.
Laughing ~ softly saying ~
yes, you are your mother's child.
by Hazelmarie Elliott
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