Sonnet - to a Mother


Sonnet to a Mother

Sweet-scented robes that fold
Wrapped your snow white sole, no woman
will surpass the beauty you hold;
Your eyes behold by every man.
Children adore you with May flowers
that filled the air with fragrance
Nor Venus, her beauty nor Athena's
wisdom can exceed your puissance
In your womb the Redeemer without sins
Mother of the sacrificial sheep
Who shed blood for our sins
When my angel summoned me to the dead
please, Mother, stay and pray beside my bed

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