Pink Porcelain Cups
I saw your face
devoid of air:
a crumpled raisin,
blue eyes squinting
at the light.
Your first utterance a memory
of joy,
for in the silence of my sorrow,
piercing cries,
abbreviated gasps for air
broke into sobs of song
filling empty cupboards
of my hungry heart.
I see your comely face
after years have formed
from still-life brushstrokes —
you speak,
I understand
as I did then
when you mumbled words
so long ago.
Showers cascade softly
upon delicate petals,
thirsty leaves;
You pour
our favorite tea
into pink porcelain cups.
by D. G. Vachal © 2012
* photograph : Pink Painting by TC Davis @Flickr Commons
lilies, sparrows and grass 
What a graceful, wondrous poem.
Thank you, Thomas. As obvious, this poem was inspired by my daughter.
Such a lovely portrait of your daughter’s grace………… Thank you for sharing this intimate look into the love that knits you together. ~ Bobbie
Thank you, Bobbie. Love between mother and daughter is indeed a very special bond. Love, Dee
Only the birth of a daughter could create such a beautifully delicate poem! Boys are great too – just in a different way… Loving my sons & daughter ~ Wendy
Thank you so much, Wendy, for visiting my blog, and I am delighted to hear about your daughter and two sons! God bless you richly! Dee
Life is so precious, so fragile – much like your beautiful china tea cup. God bless you and your daughter.
So beautifully said. Yes, life is precious and fragile, as reflected in a china tea cup. God bless you, too!