has crept in on silent paws like a cat
stolen into the room, curled around the curtains
and pooled in the corners.
Soft lips against my face,
your toothpaste-laden breath against my cheek
whispers of giggle-laden days and nightmares
cuddled away by my enfolded arms.
I love this time; a time to dust clean the day's blackboard,
to erase the marks, a chance to emotionally recharge your heat
and make sure you know, that you always know that your mother loves you.
And you will never know how precious is that daily gift
of arms and face freely given.
I am so lucky.