Briefly

Summer

As I look to my garden and see the paddling pool, the sprinkler on a hot July day,

The ghosts of the past come out to play.

The babes that ran naked under the drops and splashes,

Bronzed and baked under the July sky,

A wet and garden day the sun high

glistening children, dampened dogs, played together under the afternoon sun.

Warm baths and bedtime,

a cup of tea in the garden before sleep,

Memories in my heart, I will always keep.

School days and dread as I drag you off , for them them to fill your head,

With doubts and uncertainty of the child you are,

Scolded and your soul parched, leaving a deep scar.

Pumpkins and costumes

Made from scraps and imagination,

Out into the damp night air to collect sweets from strangers, no stranger danger there.

Telling jokes of trick or treat,

Cakes and money even homemades to eat.

A dead body in a bin, the dad had fun with that!

Me with my headband made of spring and bat.

We had so much fun on those spooky nights,

Back home for soup scary stories.

Now I look at other mothers, walking around on that eerie eve, with herds of witches and ghosties and buckets of sugar,

Just like I used to do and I notice there is a space in my heart that is tinged with sadness as my little witch and funny bones skeleton are now grown, maybe one day with tiny spooks of their own.

How did it go so quickly this mothering of mine?

I know I’m still mum but that soft baby smell lingers, with an unforgettable scent, when I was the most important being in the world to you.

I didn't have to try, I just was.

Christmas

Chocolate filling the calendars, a tradition of the same thing, again and again, the same thing.

The same ornaments, the same tree.

I hang Father Christmas on your door each year.

You take it off,

I put it back,

You take it off,

I put it back,

You see, it has to be the same for me.

Egg trees and bunnies

Easter hunts and baskets are filled.

Moist clothes to wipe mouths and tummies are full.

Bounce little bunnies as fast as you can, don't let the children get you,

There's no telling what they’ll do but I know you had three brothers now it seems there's only two!

So little ones you will always be to me,

My all and everything.

I when I leave this earthly world,

I need you to know,

Although the world keeps turning and may put you in a spin,

Call me and I will here you, I'll plug my telephone in,

I’ll listen and know the call of you,

Then one day, when you think it’s your last,

Your summer will begin.