In the rich, fertile soil, a seed is gently sown,
With tender hands, she plants it; with warmth and care, it's grown.
Her whispers are the rainfall, her touch are the softest dew,
In the garden of her heart, a seedling begins to brew.

Through winter's cold and silence, she shields it from the frost,
Her patience, like a beacon, guides without exhaust.
She nurtures every moment, with sunlight in her gaze,
Preparing for the springtime, with ever-watchful ways.

The soil now rich with kindness, the air alive with hope,
Each day a step towards blooming, she teaches how to cope.
Her laughter, like a river, refreshes and sustains,
The sprout begins to flourish, as life within it gains.

Buds unfurl in splendor, beneath her loving light,
Petals soft and fragrant, emerge from the darkest night.
With roots forged of wisdom, and stems that reach for skies,
The rose of spring awakens, in her caring eyes.

In the bloom of every petal, is a testament to grace,
A reflection of her spirit, in every whisper and embrace.
Through storms and sunny days, her love always rings,
A mother's heart, the garden, where roses bloom in summer.