Dear One,

A bush of mayflowers by your Granny’s door
Pink and white, you remember?
“Of course” i whisper to myself.
“I’ve collected in me the presence and blessings of your dearest people,
And shower them on you
From above,”
“I thought so” i think and smile…
Remembering the soft brush
On rosy cheeks
Mother’s voice telling me
I loved them….

Smeetha, responding to Prompt 6