like a hot air balloon being filled
then traveling to where ever it goes?
Over vast lands of amazement
like my baby's head down to her toes?
Watching you grow is like
the best ride at the amusement park,
the sound of crickets in the night air,
snow falling on my nose,
never-ending musical chairs,
a walk in the park on the perfect sunny day,
the sound of soft rain, or the crash bang
of far away thunder... I wonder
does a mother's love just grow and grow
bigger than the biggest and higher than the highest?
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