Have we always got to do what we are told? she mutters
as this wind tugged our memory like a sheet in a tornado
and this is something we think we lose
but she left a story behind
that famous past is recorded

Our mothers were taken to safety
while blitz burnt life from the eyes of Europe
they found comfort in the kindness of strangers
as the bombs dropped, children were protected

Her world was burned but she was not
She learned with love in a world of hate
and from this we were all borne
children playing in the garden
watched over by a mother who knew

with our fragile selves exposed
we sense her pointing finger at
our shortcomings
summed in a gesture

Her love leads us to pathways
go down them with mischief in your eye

June 15th 2007

For Auntie Motte (Vera)