...with love all things are possible

Believe ...

Believe ...

Saturday, 2 August 2014

Who's the guest?

Who’s the guest?

Who’s the guest?
Summer storms 
Blowing dandelion seeds and
Chasing ribbon wrapped
chocolate clouds across the
Dark horizon.

Who’s the guest?
Lipstick, dipstick,
Bananas and gold croutons.
A perfect sand dollar
And long,
Long brown legs.

Who’s the guest?
A dish of caviar?
A warm baguette?
A new moon or
The circle around a
Fat summer moon?

Who’s the guest?
Ding-dong, ding-dong
What would you like
Some aquamarine silk
or maybe a song?
Music notes plucked
From her ear for

Hush, Mummy … Hush
Don’t worry about the guest;
Her sense of not belonging
Furrows across her face
A taste of fear
Fills the air
As she wrings her hands
Tears welling at the tip of
Her bottom eyelids.

Who was with her
When that happened?
The chirpy cuckoo clock?
The lady who doesn’t know her name
Or was it you?

Did you see her cry
As her heart broke?
As her confidence crumbled?
Did your heart break too?
Did you care or just shrug and
Say “Meh, she won’t remember this
Were you the guest?

I sit and rub her
Wringing hands
Caressing them, left first
Then right then left again.
She sighs, confused yet
Aware some pressure is gone;
I am the guest right now
And it is Love
I bring.

No questions nor surprises;
No things that I like,
Nor images of my world.
It is
I bring
In its entire 

I am the guest today.
A daughter willing to pass
Unrecognized by
Her own mother.
Calming and loving as I
Sooth her wringing hands,
With a lotion of lemon-grass,
Over and over and over.
Soothing her soul
With a complete portion of Love.
Over and over and over.
Over and