A CAROL TO MOM

 She had a golden touch, 
 which explained the richness of her living.
 Her heart was open just enough,
 to give out all the love that was needed
 for the right here and now.
 Her soul she would feed with only triple washed,
 certified organic, gospel be damned truth.
 Her soul was pure.
 She was always on the lookout
 for scraps, discards and rejects.
 She found uses for all of these,
 never related and connected only by the fact
 that they all added layers to her nest.
 Little feathers added one by one
 brought warmth and comfort.
 She kept this quiet with only subtle mention,
 but radiated it with her glow
 of peace, hope and understanding.
 She reached out far enough
 so you would always know
 that her hand was there, waiting.
 Her voice was much like the soft summer song
 of early morning nature.
 She had a silver lining,
 but it never came with a storm.
 Her only complaint was of not enough hours.
 Our complaint was,
 there was not enough of her.
 She was an original,
 first and only version,
 pure joy and now gone.
  
 By Steve Haarman
 November 6, 2019