Averse to the stormy blows of a sorrow day
I have his seven daises wrapped yellow and white
The power of my own love seems to decay
The bold spring day dropped in gruesome night
I am a mother: I allowed my son to voice so
The best love we both have is of cheers and despair
Your fancy ill faced should not show
Mask it with your sweet profile that it would bear
With others around, you should not detest my state
Son, my love, I will always write of you
Love is not an error, it is a best asset and not hate
For you those wearies are painted new
Dear son, do not call my love iconolatry
My love will never cause you any injury
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Novemberschild is a veteran blogger, award-winning writer and author of 5 published e-books. She loves coffee, fashion, Urdu literature and all things pink and floral. When she is not writing, she can be reading, scrolling through articles or mentoring new writers and bloggers. She is friendly, helpful and a happy person. She is on twitter @romspeaks.
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