Sweat beads upon brow
Restless nights tangled by sheets
Relief elusive

The cool of Winter
Lays her shroud-like soothing balm
Upon heated souls.

The last blossom fell
With it’s dignified descent
And so Spring was gone.

Is it too soon
to miss your embrace?
To face the idea that having
You near is a place I’m mapping as a destination?
Is it too soon
To miss the sensation
Of your lips on my skin
Stirring within a feeling of hunger, elation?
Yet, whether too soon, comes the revelation that you are here and the fear is-
it doesn’t feel too soon.

Good morning
Sounds so trite
And yet the night
Laid me to rest and yours was the memory of the day I loved best
Guiding me through a peaceful night
And in mornings’ light
I felt  oh, so good
So good morning.

As the new day dawns
A feather floats slowly on
Cloud reflected seas.

We once were walking hand in hand when you said quietly:
“Here I am accepted, I am loved for me”.
I’ll never lose that moment,  for always it rings true;
you are cherished, you are loved for simply being you.
You sure do make it easy, for every day you show your love; support and loyalty through happy times and woe!
Your calm yet strong willed presence helps us keep our grounding and in return we hope you feel our endless love abounding!
So let me take you by the hand and say it evermore,
Mum you are so special, precious and adored!