Do Da day

I left her little love notes, for when she could not hear me.

I played her favorite love songs, for when she could not read me.

I wore her favorite perfume, to accentuate every memory.

I kissed her oh so sweetly, so she would never forget me.

Love – The Valentine Edition

He dips her in chocolate: She is his strawberry.

He sips her from a long stemmed glass: She is his champagne.

He gives her space to watch her grow: She is his garden.

He risks it all: She is his heart.


What is my name, when no one is around?

What is my name, when my babes are sleeping sound?

What is my name, when the washing is done?

What is my name, when I’m no longer your sun?

What is my name, when you call out in your sleep?

What is my name, when you’re in too deep?

What is my name, when you find another?

Will you ever stop calling me, Mother?

Unpredictable pleasures

Some days, most actually, you just can’t predict them.

You can’t predict they’ll finally eat a breakfast you’ve suggested and even ask for a second serve, politely.

You can’t predict they’ll believe your lies about there being no lollipops in the cupboard, the ones that magically appear after lunchtime.

You try to suppress the shock and excitement when they think sitting in the trolley for the entire grocery shop is a good idea and when they actually stay asleep from the car to the bed.

The daily grind isn’t always dressed in four walls and a desk. For some, it’s dressed in tiny clothes and waves around a cheeky grin.

I’ll take every unpredictable pleasure I can get.


No Drama

She was stuck in the best kind of way. At the corner end of the café counter, the warmth of the coffee machine complementing the cool water she sipped. The smell of fresh macadamia muffins and vegetable frittata straight out the oven wafted around her morning and she relaxed her shoulders. The rain fell from the sky, forcing her to look out the window and calculate just how wet she would get if she tried to walk to the car. Dare she leave? She rested her hand on the mighty movements of limbs rolling around in her overconfident belly, the rise and fall of her fingers as each one felt the full force of a tiny human. Leaning back into her cushioned chair she sat, still and quiet.

Dare she leave, when she was stuck in the best kind of way?

The Glow Of You

I wish I could bottle this feeling of calm; a peaceful escape from the pattern. Shrink me down and let me lay against the curved walls like a genie in a lamp.Tears well in waiting: for it to be over, for the haze to spread and the melancholy to rise. Let me lay against the curved walls of this calm, I will not take up space but rather be taken up; nestled in silence and awe at the feeling of your blissful, untainted existence that flows through my core.