If only photographs could hold your touch,
Life's been so cold since you slipped away.
Your gentle smile still says so very much—
The same that kissed my midnight fears at bay.
I feel your fingers stroking through my hair,
Those whispered "hush now, everything's alright,"
The lavender and soap scent that you wear
Still lingers in my dreams throughout the night.
Your arms that wrapped around me when I cried,
Those hands that smoothed my blankets, soft and warm,
The quiet hum that never left my side—
Your voice, my shelter from life's every storm.
Oh, how you walked like thunder in your prime,
A colossus of strength for eighty years,
But watched those knees betray you over time,
Each painful step that broke my heart to tears.
Yet still you'd pull me close with trembling arms,
Your fragile frame containing endless love,
Those compassionate hugs, your healing balms
That felt like blessings sent from up above.
The scent of your soft hands against my cheek,
The way you'd hold me when the world felt wrong,
Your gentle whispers when I felt too weak—
"My darling child, be brave, be kind, be strong."
Now silence fills the space your voice once blessed,
But in my bones I feel your tender care,
Those frail shoulders where my head would rest,
The sacred smell of love within your hair.
If I could hold you one more time, I would
Press close and breathe you in, my dearest friend.
Though death has taken all I thought it could,
Your gentle touch—that never has to end.
Oh mother, in this world I walk alone,
An orphan lost without your guiding light,
If only we could turn time's clock back home
To golden days when everything felt right.