top of page

Hugging around the Apron Strings

When I was three, I remember well
Of holding on for you to tell me
"It's alright, you are safe
All is well"

 
Always there the apron strings
pretty pinnies and other things
To bury a head, to feel your hold
a listening ear, letting troubles unfold.
Then in their place, a salve to pain
As you brushed us off to start again.

 
Sometimes ill, you carried on
Fought for us in word and deed
Showing Love, that was your creed.

All who met you, felt the same
Touched by Joy and caring ways
We treasured you mum
Through all our days
bottom of page