Mum would be 90 today. Here's a little something I wrote earlier.
Above the shimmering shingle beach where dunes of marram grasses grow
there is a place no others reach, a place that no one knows.
Beyond the sound of crying bird, whispering waves barely heard
a hint of laughter, a child at play but there are no children here today.
It's just an echo, times long past. A memory we know will last.
And when a silence stills the air just for an instant mother's there
on this beach where she used to play, her spirit still lives on today.
When her time came she didn't fight, no rage against the dying light.
In peace she went just as she'd lived, no more to do no more to give.
We brought her home, back to the sea and here we chose to set her free.
No prayers were read, that's not our way. No words were needed on that day.
We all knew, my brothers and I, the love we shared would never die.
So silently her ashes fell upon the dunes she knew so well.
Where as a child she used to play, and where her spirit lives today.