The Reunion


The Reunion

Down the platform I saw him there,

His face unsure, a focused stare.

As he walks along in daddy’s step,

Not knowing his own reaction yet.

But then as if it comes to him,

His pace it quickens, his face a grin.

And then he’s running his arms out wide,

No longer able to cover and hide,

The delight in mummy’s return from away,

For him it’s been a long few days.

As they reach and envelope one another,

Mummy’s heart it beats, a flutter.

And did she see across his eyes?

The glint of a tear, happiness inside,

As his arms lock firm and really tight,

There is a squeeze full of his tiny might.

They separate and smile together,

Beaming joy of a love forever.

And as his warm little hand slips into mine,

I pin to my heart this moment in time.


I’ve linked up with Prose for thought, click below to find out more..


Prose for Thought



I wrote this poem recently as I struggled with my depression again. It really has not let up in the last few months and some days it has been easier than others to just get on with things. Eventually things begin to slide and lack of concern for my own appearance also paves the way for less thought towards the dreaded school uniform. Finding the energy or inclination to worry about clean sweatshirts becomes so difficult and when that starts to slide I know I’m nearing the rocky bottom. Anyway it’s happened now and hopefully I will be on the way up again soon, but whilst there don’t I just love to write a little bit of dark miserable poetry……


Mummy’s depression often shows,

In the way in which you wear your clothes.

The odd socks for school for which she shows no concern,

The sweatshirt with food on, worn three days in turn,

Your unkempt appearance reveals the truth that inside,

Mummy rots deeply, black to the belly, and trying to hide,

All secrets of hatred, anger and more,

Irritable, loathing, and thoughts of escape at her door,

Your hair unbrushed for a week it seems,

Means nothing today, “can’t be bothered” it screams.

She thinks nothing of sending you off to class

Resembling the unthought-of children of your past,

Guilt laces every aspect of life,

Wanting better for you, to be a better wife.

As she struggles to do the things people see,

She also ensures that you still believe,

“Mummy loves you with all her heart”

“Today she’s just finding things very hard”

And today she hopes that things will change

Maybe there will be blue skies and a loving exchange,

That will bring a smile, will spark the return,

To a mummy with clean hair and more appearance concerns.


I’ve linked my poem to Prose for thought…..Click below to find out more.

Prose for Thought