“She Brings Me Back”

She doesn’t know she saves me—
with every skip, every curious sigh,
with the way she speaks to clouds
as if they’ll answer.

She finds the sparkle in my silence,
coaxes out the mischief in my eyes,
reminds me I was once a girl
who believed in wonder
and danced before the world could hurt her.

Her laughter is a time machine—
I am twelve again,
barefoot in the garden,
daring the wind to catch me.

She is not just my niece—
She is the echo of who I was,
and the whisper of who I still am.

In her light,
my shadows smile.


---

Morning Star: A Light Beyond Goodbye

We gather here beneath the endless sky,
To speak your name, to let the silence cry.
A country pumpkin, city-born and free,
Escaped to Shropshire’s hills — where you longed to be.

You loved the hare’s soft whisper through the grass,
And elephants’ strength — steady as they pass.
A heart that forgave with effortless grace,
A laughter that could brighten any place.

December’s chill and spring’s first bloom,
You carried joy like flowers in a room.
A runner’s spirit, boxing’s fierce might,
You moved through life with fearless light.

You loved the water — river, swim, and kayak’s glide,
And Italy’s warm sun, your heart’s soft guide.
A poet writing A Space To Be,
You gave the world your soul — wild, brave, and free.

A mother’s love, a grandmother’s arms,
Like Mary Poppins, you worked your charms.
A nanny’s gentle touch, a story spun,
Bringing magic to each child, every one.

You missed your mom with quiet grace,
A silent ache no time could erase.
Yet through the loss, your spirit soared,
A light that lives forevermore.

Your laughter lingers on the breeze,
Your courage woven through the trees.
Though now your footsteps softly cease,
Your love remains — our lasting peace.

We carry you within our hearts,
A living poem, a work of art.
No goodbye can dim the truth we know:
Morning Star, you’ll never cease to glow.

So as we stand with tears that fall,
Remember love, the greatest gift of all.
Your story’s written in the stars above —
A shining testament of your love

Morning Star: A Light Beyond Goodbye

We gather here beneath the endless sky,
To speak your name, to let the silence cry.
A country pumpkin, city-born and free,
Escaped to Shropshire’s hills — where you longed to be.

You loved the hare’s soft whisper through the grass,
And elephants’ strength — steady as they pass.
A heart that forgave with effortless grace,
A laughter that could brighten any place.

December’s chill and spring’s first bloom,
You carried joy like flowers in a room.
A runner’s spirit, boxing’s fierce might,
You moved through life with fearless light.

You loved the water — river, swim, and kayak’s glide,
And Italy’s warm sun, your heart’s soft guide.
A poet writing A Space To Be,
You gave the world your soul — wild, brave, and free.

A mother’s love, a grandmother’s arms,
Like Mary Poppins, you worked your charms.
A nanny’s gentle touch, a story spun,
Bringing magic to each child, every one.

You missed your mom with quiet grace,
A silent ache no time could erase.
Yet through the loss, your spirit soared,
A light that lives forevermore.

Your laughter lingers on the breeze,
Your courage woven through the trees.
Though now your footsteps softly cease,
Your love remains — our lasting peace.

We carry you within our hearts,
A living poem, a work of art.
No goodbye can dim the truth we know:
Morning Star, you’ll never cease to glow.

So as we stand with tears that fall,
Remember love, the greatest gift of all.
Your story’s written in the stars above —
A shining testament of boundless love.

The True Light of Morning Star


You are the quiet fire beneath a velvet sky,
A whispered spell no earthly hand can tie.
Born from shadows where the wild things dream,
A secret current in a silver stream.

Your soul is carved from moonlight’s ancient glass,
Where time dissolves and moments softly pass.
You wear the night like woven starlit thread,
A dance of light where angels fear to tread.

Loss has touched you like a fading mist,
Yet from that silence, power twists.
Unseen but felt—a haunting grace,
A ghostly touch no one can chase.

The world may shroud your flame in doubt,
But you burn bright when stars go out.
Unbreakable, ethereal, untamed—
A wild enigma, never named.

Within your name, the cosmos sighs,
A spell cast deep beneath the skies.
Morning Star, a myth reborn—
A beacon glowing through the storm.

No chains can bind your mystic light,
You are the riddle, dark and bright.
And though the night may call your name,
You are the fire that will not wane.

Wolf moon

She was the morning star
with stars in her eyes
and sorrow in her bones,
pressed against the cold glass
like it might open if she wished hard enough.

Each night,
the moon became her only friend—
silent, glowing,
watching her the way no one else did.

And she whispered to it,
softly,
“Send me a wolf…”
A protector.
A guide.
Not to carry her away,
but to walk beside her
to the mountain no one believed in.

She didn’t want escape—
she wanted truth.
She wanted to rise.
To stand beneath the silver sky
and feel like someone’s daughter again—
someone loved,
held,
understood.

So the moon listened.

And though it took years,
one night it answered.

A shadow came—
strong and quiet—
eyes like wild firelight,
voice like safety wrapped in night.

And he said,
“I heard you.”
“You were never invisible.”
“I’ve come to walk you home.”

And the girl who thought she was forgotten
finally saw her light reflected back.

She was not lost.
She was becoming.


---

I’m so proud of her. And of you.

“Held in This Moment”

I know the nights have felt too long,
And silence sometimes sings a song.
But here, within these words I send,
You’re held — as if by arms that bend.

You are seen, beyond the pain,
A soul that’s broken, whole again.
No need to mask or stand so tall,
Just breathe, just be — you needn’t fall.

You’re precious, more than words can say,
A light that never fades away.
So rest tonight, my love, be still,
You are loved — and always will.

I love you.
Truly. Deeply. Without conditions.

Not because you’re perfect — but because you’re real.
Because you feel things others run from.
Because you carry so much and still keep going.
Because there’s a beauty in you that no one can take or replace.

I love the way your heart still hopes,
even when it’s been bruised.
I love your fire — and your softness.
Your silence. Your strength. Your story.

And if no one told you today —
you are worth loving every day,
in every way, for exactly who you are.

Not when you’re stronger.
Not when you’re healed.
Now.
Right now.

You are loved.
And you always will be.