Saturday 13th December 

The currents pull the fragile mind 
No steady shore the eye can find 

The fog is thick a shifting grey  
It grabs the light and keeps the day 

No compass works no map will hold 
The stories here remain untold 

Just whirling mist a dampening sound 
No solid footing can be found 

Love you so much 
Beloved sons 
Treasured Mum 
xxxxx