Loving A Growing Daughter Poem by Marquita Lawson

Through the years her art has improved -
a sign of much practice.
Behind a closed and sometimes locked door,
she draws into the wee hours of the morning.

A light glows from under the door -
The barrier that keeps others at bay.
Music played low
allows no one's voice easy access.

Where does she run to during these times?
It's a place where no mother's allowed.
Is it warm and happy, and does she feel safe
in the sanctuary of her imagination?

The mother misses her daughter...
the little one who let her stoke her hair...
rocking her to comfort her...
who easily donned a sweet, loving smile...
which she now has hidden away.

The mother cries easily when no one is around.
1995