Just Mum

‘It’s just Mum’, you say when you call

As if you weren’t the most important person to call

And I hadn’t been expecting, hoping, for your call.

‘Only me’, you apologise.

But this is you,

 

You, the finder of lost keys, the sender of postcards

Baffies, long lies and day-packs

Oaty fish, peas in a pod, smelling of sun-cream

Mitts, marzipan and marmite

Just Mum

 

Red lipstick and sweet, sweet tomatoes

City-crofting, spiced apples, and dungarees

Everything will feel better in the morning

Ragged robbin, Rackwick beach, and a ring a ring of roses

Just Mum

 

Chittery bites and sledging on tea trays

Wabbit, dreich, peely wally, a real pea-souper

Stubble fields and blowing away the cobwebs

A map-reading and fire-starting

Just Mum

 

Just waiting up for us to get home

Just a grandmother, wife, sister, friend, neighbour, colleague, and woman

Mum’s the word

And that’s everything to us

There’s no just about it

 

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