I'm Turning Into My Mother

I sit in the dim morning stillness in my bed and I read the Word. 

I'm turning into my mother.

I bake up a coffee-cake on a chilly morning, to warm and cozy the kitchen. 
Then, I sit contented with our Blossoms around the breakfast table and chit-chat.

I'm turning into my mother.

I pass the dining room table and can't resist the Thomas Kinkade puzzle in process on it. 

I'm turning into my mother...

It's my childhood, being repeated and it's beautiful.