In towns and cities everywhere
The fathers yawn, the children stare
And wonder ‘Why did mummy go?
Will she be here if we get snow?
She’ll not be there to make my tea,
To make things fair for she, for he.
Some time at least she’ll be away
And I will have to go and play
With aunty, uncle, cousin, friend,
Granny, gramps, a neighbour, send
Her messages and miss her cuddles,
Look to dad to sort our muddles’.
Well done, children. Don’t be glum.
The world is out there for your mum.
The more she sees, the more she does,
The more she accesses the buzz
Of living with wide open eyes,
Of saying ‘yes’ to each surprise,
Inhabiting her body-mind
And breathing deep with wo/man-kind,
The more when home, you’ll see, she will
Have joyful heart and sharpened skill.
Love’s intimate caress is writ
On body, soul, and there will sit
In witness to her gratitude
That other people got your food.
Other people found your shoes,
The other things you always lose,
Gave a kiss and cheered you on
In order that she could be gone.
So thank you children, and the rest,
It’s really great, we are so blessed.
Calling women: play away
Then cherish more the every-day.
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