
Monday 9th February
The grey expanse
Begins to sigh
A steady rhythm
Meets the sky
The clouds drift low
Close to the ground
Like muted whispers
Barely making a sound
Love you so much
Precious sons
Treasured Mum
xxxxx






Monday 9th February
The grey expanse
Begins to sigh
A steady rhythm
Meets the sky
The clouds drift low
Close to the ground
Like muted whispers
Barely making a sound
Love you so much
Precious sons
Treasured Mum
xxxxx




