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for molly

in the evening time
my mother so fresh,
like a jasmine in bloom
after a shower of rain.

the garden gloriously coloured
where golden hands had touched,
her secret…..
secretly tending and nursing
the sickly foliage.
like a child in jaundice comes alive,
fresh with colour.

that is my mother!
who gives joy to others,
yet,she hides her pain
in the fibre of her being,
unleashed when love pours forth.

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