With day or night

With joy or pain

Our summer, autumn, winter, spring

When love we share

Our morning song

With hope begin

With light become

. . .

At five in the morning she needed my help. I cleaned the carpet and removed her socks and slippers as was usual. When she was ready I helped her back to her room and cleaned her lower legs and feet before helping her back into the bed once more. I tried to be as gentle as possible and reassured her all was fine. It is her ninety sixth birthday. Her gift to me was to sing to herself as she cuddled her teddy. She sang All Things Bright and Beautiful as she fell asleep once more.

ORIGINATOR · Mike de Sousa

ART FORM · Poetry

COMPLETED · 2022

Free to enjoy. Copyright maintained. Not to be used for ai or commercial gain.