She makes things aplenty,
Pretty mistakes and gorgeous letters,
Signed with a generous hand.
Tumbling books, treasure trails
And at Easter, intriguingly painted eggs,
With the palest gossamer threads.
Her tan hands shape green cans
For luscious roses, baby's breath,
And daffodils from her enchanted meadow.
Sometimes she even makes lurid calculations;
Inspiring maths problems and code
And then happily smug answers.
Her eyes have made enduring love,
To many her blessed close
And revered, sacred friends.
But best of all; her made smiles;
Warm curves and lifting grins
To make everything and all, to shine.
