The word "love" there is no doubt
gets bandied all about
You use it as an epithet
and yet this moniker bestowed
Does nothing to whet
My craving, desire
to explode with the revelatory
notion (and I bemoan) that your devotion
is
to the word alone.

Today I love you dearly,  you are so special to me.
But how this came about is written in our history.
I remember a chill at night, shivering in my bed.
Then the draft was gone, the blanket tucked and a kiss placed on my forehead.
I was soaked with fever's sweat when a cool sponge touched my arm.  
You stripped me down and cooled my brow and told me I'd come to no harm.
I came home with news of triumph, claiming ten from ten!
You smiled and said " I knew you could! You've made me proud again"
You see, it was the little things that you did every day that made me brim with confidence; to help me find my way.
Now every time I kiss a brow or tuck a child in tight,
I know that I am carrying my mother’s loving light.

Dear Mr Postman,
You brought me more than letters.
Something to hope for.

Dear Mr Postman,
Why did you wear those short shorts?
I was so alone.

Your ripple will pulse
Through times’ eternal waters
As if you still live.

Barely a flutter
To exist is to be feared
Rocks, your only friends.

Erase the anguish
I caused in my thoughtlessness
If only I could