A mother's tribute as her daughter is about to leave the nest
Off to College
Her eyes are deep and dark as chocolate,
her hair is as soft as a peach’s fuzz,
her cheeks are as plump as a plum,
her scent is as sweet as honey.
Her voice the joyful resonance of chimes in the wind.
Small, plump hands,
dimpled and sticky,
she was my fairytale,
too good to be real.
Yet she grew,
Now I gaze into her eyes, wise and strong,
her hair is thick and long,
her cheeks are shadowed by strong bones.
She smells of paint and charcoal,
her voice is deep and resilient,
Long, beautiful artists’ hands,
with pastels and ink,
jeans, sweaters and heels,
no part fairytale.
Just a powerful woman,
headed into the world,
leaving me behind,
with a memories in my mind,
like a fairytale told over, and over.