A Mother's Shadow, a Daughter's Light
Finding Love Beyond the Chains of Birthright

In a land of eucalyptus dreams, where crimson earth meets sapphire skies,
I sense the memories of my mother's gaze, tender yet unyielding,
The lilt of her voice, lilac breeze on honeyed days,
But O, the bitterness that grew, for I was deemed second best,
Her love, a russet apple with a worm inside the chest.
~ ~ ~
The touch of her silken apron, as I held her close to me,
A phantom echo of a warmth that refused to set me free,
For her love, like a tyrant, held me captive in my cage,
Whilst the world outside, in vibrant hues, evolved and took the stage.
~ ~ ~
In defiance, I chose a bride, one that mother's heart did loathe,
Yet the sweetness of her lips, like nectar, drowned her harsh reproach,
Her breath, like zephyrs of a summer's eve, against my face did dance,
Our love grew strong, like ancient oaks, against the storm's advance.
~ ~ ~
And so, we fled from mother's grasp, to a wild and distant shore,
Where golden wattle whispers tales of love, forevermore,
The scent of eucalyptus wafting 'cross the arid plains,
A salve to soothe the wounds that time and distance failed to mend.
~ ~ ~
With hearts entwined, we breathed this air, our love a song of fire,
And in this haven, far away, was born our heart's desire,
A daughter, who with eyes like stars, brought joy to our abode,
Her laughter, sweet as bellbirds' song, in emerald forests flowed.
~ ~ ~
I cherished her, my beauteous child, the love I never knew,
In every touch, her soft embrace, a healing balm I drew,
And in her face, I found my mother's gaze, the love that was denied,
For in this distant land, our hearts were free to soar and glide.
~ ~ ~
So now I stand, with tear-filled eyes, upon this sunburnt shore,
The taste of salty ocean mist, a testament of yore,
With love as fierce as wildfire's blaze, my daughter's hand I hold,
In her, my heart's salvation lies, my story now unfolds.
About the Creator
Iris Obscura
I am many women. I am Iris.
Polite. Sane. Restrained.
Wrong door.
3 am. Sex under the fingernails. Dead things twitching in the good china.
Your inner beauty. Hold still.
I’ll see what comes off.
Sometimes tender.
Read on.
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