They call her aunty r.

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Her face turned
Dwelling of worry and softness filled her eyes.
Such a mother’s love.
She serves. She does it so willingly and wholehearted.
No reward but the love of her child and others who have been comforted by her loving arms.

Her voice quivered as she spoke about her son’s unquivering faith and hers that she felt was small and lacking.
She said she felt in adequate in words and wisdom.
I felt God would honor her prayers.
And He did.

I’m thankful to meet this gentle soul
And the warrior of her son that is in his way like her.
Gentleness, meekness
Faith and love.
They inspire.
She inspires me.

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Hands.

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Firm hands
Firm hands that hold me down
Pull my hair and make me
will to yours.

Soft skin
As I burn and you blaze
No race or end insight
Just the thrill of the seen.

You like my voice
As I peak you peak
Like moths dangerously close to being crisp
We come together
And burn.

Liquid voice
As your touch mine and I yours
We sing a tune so intimate
No one could ignore…

Image via :

https://johnjzokovitch.com/category/poems/

Little girl

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Little girl

I am a girl
Just a girl
Somewhere in me she wants tenderness
Affection and some love.

That girl?
Someone I once knew?
She had lost herself
And finding her path was insanly ridicule.

She loves pretty perfect things.
She laughs when amused,
Wear her heart on her sleeves
Takes all or nothing.

I am that girl
The one that runs into the raging waves for kicks.
Bite my lip when you scold me.
Kiss yours to get attention.

Would you love me?
Always love me
If I stay this way
Just a girl.

Image via :

https://www.pexels.com/photo/girl-portrait-26180/