I long for the brush of your finger tips,
Gently pulling my hair into place,
Forming the braids upon my head.
I long for your whispers at night,
Quietly leading me to sleep,
A silent lullaby,
Soothing the tiredness away.
I long for your smell,
An aroma of peaches and fresh baked bread
That tickles my nostrils.
I long for your laughter,
A river of smooth sounds,
Swiftly flowing from your mouth,
Expanding to fill every abyss of my ears.
I long to see your eyes,
A pool of crystals and diamonds,
Twinkle with mischief.
I long for your presence,
Comforting me, encouraging me, believing in me.
I long for you to see me grow up.
Mahfooz Ali
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-ode-to-my-late-mother/
