A light-hearted ditty for my mum who is in surgery today ❤
– With a gunshot pop, your Achilles snapped in two,
if it was going to be anyone, of course it’d be you.
A regular on the ward, your smile unbeaten by pain,
who knew you’d be a hospital visitor so quickly again?
But worry not, my dearest mum,
you went down dancing, jiving, having fun.
It’s how you live your life and if there’s one thing you’ve taught me,
pain is no obstacle, only a veiled gift fate has brought me.
So heal well and heal swiftly,
tell Dad to keep your Dr Martens waiting by the front door.
Because on August 1st you’ll be turning fifty,
and I expect to see you hobbling with a smile back to the dancefloor. –
– ‘How can someone hate that many people just because they love differently mama?’ The child said. The newsreader was speaking of the rising death toll as updates flashed across the screen interspersed with angry speeches from activists and stammering politicians.
His mother didn’t reply, she couldn’t. Her hand was grasped tightly over her mouth, shaking with the effort of stemming the flow of tears that threatenend to break through what little composure she had left.
Then another hand touched her own. It was soft, familiar and the love that coursed through her from that simple action gave her strength to face the TV screen once more.
And then hand’s owner spoke, at once putting the world back together into something recognisable and beautiful in an instant.
‘We’ve never understood it ourselves kid but we have love and this person doesn’t. They must not know that there is unity and power in love that hatred can never break through. Your mamas have fought for that our entire lives, some people just don’t know love when they see it because their hate clouds their lives.’ She took the frightened woman’s hand to her lips and kissed it tenderly.
The child looked away from the TV screen for long enough to catch the two women staring deep into each other’s eyes. In that instant they lost in the depths of the love they had fought for.
Meanwhile, lovers across the world wept for those that had fallen and held their partners close, united in grief but most importantly, united in love. –
– One evening they walked further than ever before, chancing a journey down streets beyond the known.
Each night they grew more daring until fear bowed down before them, smiling as they passed on by.
City by city, their curiosity burned brighter, igniting all they met and inspiring a lifetime of tales.
They journeyed on together for the rest of their days and by then, the world spun at their feet. The unknown was a mystery no more. –
– ‘What should I write about?’ She mused, hesitating to let her pen leave its inky trail across such crisp, untouched perfection that was the beauty of a blank page.
‘Everything, anything and nothing all at once,’ the teacher replied, ‘the most important task is that you write.’ –
– ‘This must be what Heaven looks like,’ She said, gazing up at the treetops with joy in her eyes. The only sounds were that of birdsong and the gentle beating of her heart as she entwined her fingers with his, snuggling closer to his chest.
‘Yes,’ he whispered as he drank in the beauty of her smile and the soul he carried so much love for, ‘it must be’. –
– ‘She lived for pages that wove the past into the very fabric of her dreams, devouring their stories one by one as times long gone by became more familiar than her own.’ –