He Never Shook My Hand - Part 3
Glad to be back at my apartment,
I hung my coat,
Took off my shoes,
And stepped into the lounge.
I was greeted by my mother,
As I entered the room,
Her visit unexpected,
But a warm and welcome face.
Instinctively she knew my feelings,
My face gave away,
The fear within,
She wrapped her arms around me.
So warm and safe, I drift and dream,
Always glad, in mother’s arms,
Gently so she lays me down,
Victim of my mother’s charms.
Never could I come to harm,
Here within my cradle bed,
With mother softly singing so,
As she strokes my sleepy head.
My ever present Angel sighs,
And with such angelic grace,
She sings her simple lullaby,
And presses pillow over face.
In disbelief I pulled away,
Stared her in the eye,
Almost ran across the room,
And told my mother to leave.
Copyright © Sharon Smith | Year Posted 2012
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