Ruth Walters (London, U.K.)

A young girl poses for a photo,
soft features, plump hands, full lips,
a sweet expression, under an archway of flowers
hung in spring and blooming now.

One day, the girl in the photograph
will be my mother.
She'll grow weary, lose her youthful glow,
toil and sweat.

She'll suffer pain, great hardship
but she'll not want for love
for that I will give
all the rest of her life.

Her journey has not yet begun,
look in her eyes, see how they glisten,
they yearn for the future,
for happiness and fun.

Somehow, if only I could warn her,
let her know life's pitfalls
but I am but a thing of the night
not yet born, waiting……

My opening lines have not
been written, I'm just thoughts, drifting….
Peacefully I sleep, quietly,
as she poses for her photo.

Some day, when she has gone
when she dies, I will remember this moment
and write a poem about
her photograph