When I first met your mother

My little son, my little girl,
when I first met your mother,
she sat in her work room.
There came no sound of other
men wanting her to bloom.
When I first met your mother
love wasn’t there at first.
It took my heart another
two months, in tears I’d burst.
Too shy I turned to madness
in love, I could not speak
in her, I searched for gladness
elsewhere I could not seek.
When I first met your mother
she was wearing her sandals.
Her workplace, hot in summer,
thin socks she had and ankles.
When I first met your mother
her eyes were brown like yours.
Her voice sounded like yours,
like when tame robin roars.
Her lips, red like a rose,
she had one pretty nose.
Her feet were warm like yours.
Her hands were soft like yours.
That day, her hands I missed,
but sure, they felt like yours.
When I first met your mother
where were you then to see?
That day, once in one lifetime
made her, me and you “we”.

*****
April 18, 2016