Precious roses placed in her care,
Each one is different, each with gifts so rare.
She tenderly nurtures them in this garden of life,
As she prepares them for spring and the seasons of strife.

They are warmed by the sunshine of her love
And challenged by the fertilizer of her demands,
They are watered with the tears of her concern
And pruned under the discipline of her hands.

She lives humbled and honored and trembles each day,
That as placed in her hand by the Heavenly Father,
These precious roses make a beautiful bouquet
By which the Lord up above has honored her as “mother.”

©2013 Michael S Davis

The  passing thought of you,
The enchanting sound of you,
The sweetest scent of you,
The slightest glimpse of you,
The longest sight of you,
The faintest touch of you,
The boldest grasp of you,
The honey taste of you,
The warm embrace of you,
The matchless love of you,
Transforms me through and through!

©2013 Michael S Davis

You can count on me to stand aside
when you need to be alone.
You can count on me to stand aside
when you have to do what’s done.
You can count on me to stand aside
when you’re taking care of self.
You can count on me to stand aside
when you don’t need my help.
You can count on me to stand aside
when you think that is best.
You can count me to stand aside,
but be with you for each test.
You can count on me to stand aside
and look on you with pride.
You can count on me to stand aside
yet stand always at your side.    

© 2010  Michael S. Davis

I take your hand in mine and it belongs there.
I nuzzle at your neck and feel your silken hair
And I know we belong together.
When I feel you touch me like a feather
Or I trace your smile with my finger tips,
Or we touch with just our lips;
When the very skin and hair and fragrance
Of our bodies declare it, there’s no denial;
We belong . . .
     Together . . .
           Forever . . .
                Touching.

©2013 Michael S Davis