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Poems from Mother to Daughter

Lora has been a featured writer in poetry publications. She is currently working on a collection of poems for children.

the-patter-of-little-feet

Creating A Better World for All Children

These poems are a tribute to not only my daughter but to the children of the world. They honor children for their pureness of heart, honesty, imagination, and their inquisitive minds which give them such an amazing capacity to learn. We must endeavor to build a more loving and just world where all children can grow up in a safe environment and not be exploited or abused, and have the opportunity to develop their unique gifts and feel good about themselves.

the-patter-of-little-feet

The Patter of Little Feet

I still hear the patter of your little feet

running down the hall,

"mama, mama," you would call

with arms outstretched for me-

to hold you as you were frightened by

the loud claps of thunder.


And I would give you a warm embrace.

"There's nothing to be afraid of...

this will pass and the sun will

soon come out."


Then I placed you on my lap,

in a big rocking chair,

and I would read you a story.

The thunder suddenly becoming much

quieter... only the patter of raindrops

falling on the windows could now be heard.


"Look it's the rain and it makes seeds grow.

Remember the little seed you planted yesterday?"

And then I would take your little hands and fold them

inside of mine and show you how a

seed grows into a lovely flower.


And often times

when we looked out the window again,

the sun was there and a beautiful rainbow

would appear in the sky.


You would take your crayons out

and draw the rainbow and the sun...

then you and I holding hands

with such happy, smiling faces.


Now, you've grown into a radiant flower

spreading beauty and joy wherever you go...

a lovely rainbow of color follows you

in your path as you share your

grace and gifts with others.


And whenever I hear the patter of rain

falling against the window,

I hear the patter of little feet

against the floor...

and hear your sweet voice calling as if it

were only yesterday-

and I still feel the softness and warmth

of your little body

as I would hold you in my arms...

forever, my little flower.


-Lora Hollings

the-patter-of-little-feet

Just Like Thumbelina

I remember the tenderness

of your little hands

and the scent of your sweet soft curls

under my chin;

with your little feet folded under you on my lap,

I would read your favorite story...

"Thumbelina."


After I read the story,

you would use your little hands

to imitate Thumbelina flying on her swallow;

and seeing others who needed help,

you would signal with your hand

that you were flying down

to rescue them-

a little bird with a broken wing,

a puppy or kitten who was in trouble

or a little child who looked lost-

you would say,

"They're all right now,

mom, safe from harm."


And then we would

sing your favorite song

and you would dance,

twirling round and round,

making graceful gestures with your arms.


"Thumbelina, Thumbelina, tiny little thing

Thumbelina dance, Thumbelina sing,

Thumbelina, what's the difference if you're very small?

When your heart is full of love, you're nine feet tall!"


Then all the little animals who were broken

and all the ones who were lost and needed help...

would become the names of your

toys in your room and I would

help you mend their injuries.


Now I see you as a grown woman

using your incredible gifts of mind and loving heart

in rescuing those who are injured or lost...

restoring their hope

and the possibility to see themselves,

once again, in the promise of a new day.


-Lora Hollings

the-patter-of-little-feet

My Snow Angel

When you were a little girl,

I remember dressing you

in a lavender snowsuit,

with a heart on its jacket,

and little red boots

so that you could go outside to play.


You were dazzled

by this wintry world

with its soft white drifts,

your eyes full of wonder and delight

as you reached for icicles

which dangled from branches of trees.


Lying in the snow,

you would make snow angels

as I had taught you,

so many pretty ones...

the little imprint of your body seemed to be

a perfect size for an angel.


A little trail of footprints

could be seen across the yard

as you loved to hear your boots make

crunching sounds in the snow.


Laughing excitedly,

you would catch snowflakes

falling from the sky,

with your red mittens,

and marvel at their delicate form.


How you loved discovering

new things about the world

as you continue to do today-

often times, even forging a new path...

and leaving new footprints for others to follow.


-Lora Hollings

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