Poetry: “Cookies With Butter”

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    I turned on my laptop
    and there was an email
    my mother had written that day

    She said I was special
    and wanted the whole world
    to know of her blessing this way

    So she’d clicked the send button
    less than half a few seconds
    a slew of those emails went out

    for this and that corner
    of all G-d’s creation
    To read all her words left no doubt:

    I love you my daughter
    my pure dear sweet daughter
    in ways no one told me I could

    I’d bake cookies with butter
    knit you a warm sweater
    whisper lullabies, then later I would

    Swing and I’d slide you
    count, draw and provide you
    with all toys great, small and in blue

    I’d read and I’d guide you
    nap along side you
    comb curls, kiss your toes and bruised knee

    Pick you up, put you down
    Hold your hand, make you stand
    and show you all ways not to falter

    How I’ve loved you my daughter
    my pure dear sweet daughter
    whose laughter I’ve lived for like water

    There’s nothing I’ve found
    to match that pure sound
    it means there’s a heaven, you see

    I love you my daughter
    now grown to the rafter
    in ways no one could tell you but me

    I hope you’ll tuck this away
    for that quiet cold day
    when my steps are no longer graceful

    Then bake me cookies with butter
    wrap me in your warm sweater
    and laugh often, I’ll always be grateful.

    9 COMMENTS

    1. Beautiful, elegant, discerning, thoughtful, inspirational, amazing…and the poem is great, too!
      Thanks everso, Giselle, for this lovely tribute to your daughter…

    2. What a lovely poem. It so beautifully and delicately illustrates the divine relationship between mother and daughter and how things come full circle.

    3. I’m finding it hard to stop crying… I was really touched by your poem. It reminded me of my mother … She always told me how special I was when I was growing up. It also reminds me of my own daughter and napping by her, combing the curls in her hair… Swinging her on a swing, reading to her and guiding her, baking cookies together…Just loving her so much and realizing how very much my own Mom has loved me, too through the years. The poem reflects to me a circle of love and life. Thank you, Giselle.

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