'The force of creativity is strong in this one' DMC©1999

As we weave in sacred time - ©DMC 2026

In the quiet hum of our shared space,

Brushes whisper, colours race,

My little one, not yet nine,

Breathes life in hues, in every line.

From birth she’s bathed in art’s delight,

Her mind a prism catching light,

Curious hands, a heart so true,

Seeing the world in a brighter view.

By my side, she’s always near,

Asking questions soft and clear,

Together we weave in sacred time,

Our private wonders, yours and mine.

High gloss dreams and glassy streams,

A hardwood world for vivid themes,

She vanished to her ‘office’ door,

Then tiptoed back with something more.

“Mumma… does this look like yours?”

A whisper trembling through the pores

Of my proud and swelling heart—

“No” I said, “you’ve made your own”

Tears like rain in sunlight gleam,

Pride and awe in gentle stream,

A natural gift, so wild, so free—

My daughter’s art, a part of me.