She’s pretty in pink,
and blue
and never
leaves the house
without earrings

a little bling to
to make the heart sing.

She’s fast,
darting birdlike,
with a quick step,

a domestic dervish.

Her hands are
always about
the business
of kindness,

holding out
the comfort
of tea,

smoothing beds
and troubled minds,

creating fragrant
in floppy old hat
and tatty garden gloves.

She is moved easily,
a quick tear for
others’ pain,
hands swift to
offer help and
to hold.

My blue angel

She keeps the calendar
alive with
appointments to
keep body parts
in good working order

no one forgotten.

The bedrock and the heart
the bud and the root
of family tree
she holds us
in loving canopy.

She think she’s
but the extraordinary
always do.

For my mum, my earth angel. Love ya, mum!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s