Make for me a place within your heart
On which I can depend. For only you
Touch the ancient wellsprings of my tears,
Home through all the wanderings of my years,
Eden that no other can renew,
Root I cannot rend through rage or art.
A mother serves her sugar with
A bit of peppermint
To clarify the passages
That carry what she meant
When she first set to bear a soul
Quite separate from her own,
Whom she would cherish, yet must teach
To live and die alone.
He didnt lyk d curry &
He didnt lyk my cake
He said my biscuits
were 2hard
Not lyk his mother
used 2 make
I didnt prepare
coffee rite
He didnt lyk the stew
I didnt mend his socks
d way his mother used 2
I pondered 4 an answer
I was looking 4 a clue
Isnt dere anything I
cud do 2 match his
mothers shoe?
Then I smiled as I
saw light
1 Thing I cud definitely
do
I turnd around &
slapped him tight
Just like his mother
used 2 ... ;->
