T’is the small things

Mother's Comfort

T’is the small things

when the sky grows dark

that shine hope’s light

and in the coldness of winter

warm our frost chilled bones.

Bread and salt by hearth’s door

an offering of thanks

A gift given without obligation

A touch for comforts sake

A song for the simple joy of sound

A shared whisper

and a stolen kiss

Small things

but my heart gladder and lighter for it

and spring sweeter for the bite of winter

and snow melt cool

in the sun’s warmth.

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