A Mother’s Chapter in Verse

It happened upon a Thanksgiving morn,
The tiny voice heard of a daughter born.

She entered into my world with quite a burst,
Latching onto mother with life’s finest thirst.

A precious little bundle with dreams to grow,
The future’s young women to someday know.

The scratches and stitches, she’s on such a whirl;
Oh, did I wonder, “Is this really my sweet girl? ”

Stubborn and headstrong and she still can be,
She’ll always be that little sweet bundle to me.

She shed petticoats, lace and Patten leather shoes
For retro and jeans to express her definite views.

The girl’s gone, but the fond memories are not.
The woman emerged from that scruffy little tot.

From Victoria to Vicky and this is her choice.
So now my dear little bundle has her big voice!

A funny thing happened one early January morn,
Another tiny cry was heard and her son was born.

On goes life’s cycles, one right after another,
Moving daughters along to making a mother.

Call her Victoria, Vicky or Mommy, you’ll see,
She’ll always be that little sweet bundle to me.