“Bedtime, Little One.”
"Tould you tuck me in?" She pleads, eyes wide, her strong little fingers clasping mine.
“I’m bad at writing, Mr. Love.”
"You can think. Writing's just a set of skills you can learn, one by one."
While buying coffee for the car behind me, I wonder if I made them smile.
My little neighbour rides his bike down the road just to call out my name.
for your feet
to make that jump
Please, it aches deep in my chest
I'm tired of weeping, just let me rest.
Doing what I can
Then praying in thought and breath,
Trusting He'll do the rest.
Lost and Found
Lost in the past and the future
Found in the present
The gut-wrenching pain of a pulverised heart, years before, broken and before that slightly scuffed
A Day in My Life
Woke up, fell out of bed.
Dragged a comb across my head.
Returned to bed.