Conversations often lead to actions.
I sit and listen to her speak,
Roof top leak,
Drips of wisdom,
Words of realistic reasons.
She sips white wine,
It's called dry,
But it feels as wet as her voice,
As she drowns me in her thoughts,of what used to be of her.
Humility from her youthful days.
I'm proud of her more than ever.
I feel inspired,
I mix my water with wine,
A perfect cocktail of the past and present.
Wine skins to pipes,
I'm pouring all of her into my system,has she realised?
She will when at that official baptism of my daughter,
She becomes my first Angel's godmother.
Bless you mum.
Your special to me in ways that the genesis of our story can never reveal.
M.O.O aka Carswell evoL
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