Poem -

Mothering Sundays

Words will sometimes fall short when I talk of you mum,
These mothering Sundays  come to pass  with each setting of the sun.

The birds always sing their song and the flowers always bloom,

But there is a bitter chill to the air today because we spend it without you. 

The sadness that hangs over head unseen by everyone, 

The emptiness from not having you, the ache still lingers on. 

The creases upon on my face from my broken smile. 

If I only could just talk with you for a little while. 

I would tell you how much i Iove you and life its not the same. 

I've never quite been the same person since the day you went away. 

It took losing you to learn this harsh truth I realised, 

Its hard to say I love you more in death than I ever could in life. 

Mums like mine are so precious and and the best giift we are given is time. 

So hold your mums and hug them go spend a good long while. 

Sit with them and laugh, be grateful that they are there. 

Mums on earth and in heaven are the reasons we are all here.