mother of roses
tired, the mother wakes up.
mother of roses and thorns,
mother of three,
mother.
exhausted, the mother makes breakfast
red rubies, lemon and poppyseed muffins, opals
the girls deserve nothing less
mother of three,
her girls sleep.
it is still dark out
the girls stir
brown hair on white pillows
night melts away,
mother sings her girls awake
barefoot
the girls greet their mother.
barefoot, the girls hum at the breakfast table
content, the mother smiles,
the girls laugh and eat their red rubies, their muffins, their opals
unbeknownst of the love of the sacrifice of the mother
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