basking

Where else would you be
except here.
A king size made for three
sometimes four
when the night terrors wake.
Open all hours
for comfort and nurture.
You lie central
arms outstretched
Queen of the new world
basking
in the warmth
in the aura of love.

espresso

I don’t understand
where the water goes, you said
as you interrogated
the waste pipe plumbing
to the sink at music class.
Your three year old stature
convenient for inspection.

A quizzical look on your face
a mirror of images
in the emotions book
we had read and practised
years before:
happy, sad, confused…
And my heart exploded
with an electric shock
of love
which coursed through me.

An espresso shot
to a decaf soya latte self.

old friends 

It’s been a score of years
yet more
since we met.
First netball court foes
then school class allies
heartaches and discos
slack through the Uni years
reunited through
wedding weekends away.
And now
babies’ later
I see you afresh
sitting on tiny chair
conversing with my son
as the centre of his
three year old world.
He’s beaming
and so is my heart.

Inspired by EW chatting with my son