A Sonnet on Mothers

. . .

A flickering flame that nought can smother.

Immortal radiance unlike any other.

A kind of kindness that can’t be kindled.

By incense burning, dreary doubt dwindled.

The warmth of your enduring embrace,

Melts the cold and has it erased.

My candle ever-lit, fire and fuel,

That challenges the dark to a duel.

Smiles ordinarily appear,

When beings such as you are near.

Aspects that lie beyond description,

I, attempted to capture by wordy inscription.

Failure was inevitable, words never enough,

To define a ‘mother’ is remarkably tough.

. . .

~ Granville D. Austin