I remember a family sitting together around our small but warm coal fire
A heat we felt was like no other or was that the warmth of my loving mother
coal cracked and spat onto the hearth, no feeling like it upon this earth
I pointed the fire with a poker to expose the flame that rose up higher
Mum told me "you're a fire bug" as she splashed water on the rug,
but then she went away and came back in with lot's of ovaltines and a mug for me.
All of us with such young lives, taking for granted food in the cupboard, like bee's in a hive
If only we could see, how it would be, a struggle to grow and the will to succeed
To earn a living and support our own, savings with cash, veg freshly grown
now growing old, remembering good times, I can still hear your laughter with the wind in my chimes
As a family we never had much yet we had warm clothes, good food and a caring mothers love.
Friday, 19 August 2011
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Miss you Mum
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