POEM.

A poem I wrote to the older woman who sat with me when my youngest was in hospital earlier this year.

It’s a special kind of love mum’s have
The older woman watching on said.
And I thought, I hope to be her one day,
When grey hairs crown my head.

MUSING.

This isn’t one of those motherhood poems…

I want to write those motherhood poems,
That everybody loves.
The ones that speak of tough days and stained shirts,
But a love like no other.

POEM.

A process of becoming,
Of breaking the mold of who you are.
Once one free spirt flying,
Now a vessel for a speck of star.