A tactile Mum

I wish that I had been

a tactile Mum.

Too late now to give them hugs

and kisses;

brush their tears away

and smooth their brow.

These misses hit me hardest

when I shatter my excuse.

My Mother never

smothered me in kisses.

I don’t remember hugs.

No - not at all.

So why was I so meagre

with my loving when I had so much

to give to them.

I’ll never know.

They - despite me -

smother their children in kisses.

Hugs abound.

There is a radiance in loving.

There’s a lot of it around.

Thank goodness.