The Dress

A mother searched through the aisles
for the perfect dress for her daughter.
It had to be dark and sparkly,
A starry night she could wear.
The dress had to flow.
The soft hands that had caressed her children’s hair
And held their hands in times of need
never left the racks of dresses.

The perfect dress would have a feel to it.
silky and feather light,
Stars listening for wishes in the dark.
As she wandered, she found it,
A river at midnight
Flowing through her hands like sand,
And she took it back to her baby girl as fast
As her legs would carry her.

The sparkles in the dress danced
In her daughter’s eyes.
This was the dress.
Then as they were checking out
The daughter turned her mother
Hugged her and kissed her and said
“Thank you.”





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