Teresa Dearing Poems
You did not come with nine months wait,
I did not buy the buttons and bows ‘til late,
You, my daughter came, mid your teen-age years,
And I loved you in spite of all my fears.
A short while mine, to dress, to spoil, to love,
Far too soon you flew, like a sweet, soft dove.
Now content to listen to all your hopes and fears,
Forever you are my girl in spite of all your years.
If I could have picked a daughter, she would have been you,
No mother could love a daughter, any more than I love you,
Flags of flying geese, waving in the sky,
Heralding autumn, with cries loud and high.
Green leaves turning red, orange, and yellow,
Filtered sunshines nice, warm, and mellow.
Harvest time comes and goes, like a favored guest,
Farms look like patch work quilts, now laid out to rest.