My mother at seventy five

With lots of grey and few silvery white ,
She has always been my shiny armoured knight.
The toothless grin brightens my day,
For getting the goodies she knows how to have her way.
Dusky beauty she was ,when young and shy,
She never failed to answer my what’s and why’s.
Standing tall despite her short stature,
To keep all together with love is her second nature.
Now she doesn’t keep well and I miss her contented sighs
She looks exhausted ,wary and lost in her aging eyes.
I toss and turn in night these days,
Who knows when mother nature will have her way.
I do not want her to go away in distance or soul,
I want her there always beside me.
People tell me I just look like her every passing day,
But this child woman in incomplete with her mom,
Who is her world,her whole.