Thursday, 10 June 2010



Blood binds wounds and opens hurts..

Relatives are a blessing or a living curse.

Parenting, no break from: raise and tend,

Trial and error, we don’t know which or when.


As mothers we go on nurturing.

Children yearn, and learn discerning.

Fathers are baffled by it all.

It’s a dance, a stumble, a magical ball. 


Not measuring wonder at: this or that,

Amazement, kisses, and caveats.

Time marches onward until it’s all gone.

Love softens our pain and helps us belong. 


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