Mother

When I was a boy my mother told me I could sail to the moon. 

When my head hit the feathers my mothers ramblings made sense.

She was a lovely woman. Bold and courageous, beautiful and elegant.

When the music hit, her feet would dance and prance. Her joy overflowed with abundance.

Giggles and snickers were her communications.

The kitchen is where her hands would work, creating magical masterpieces.

Her motto was simple "You are my son and I will love until I cannot love".

Her rules were plain "You are my boy, listen to my words and grow to a man".

My mother was relaxed and full of tricks...

She died when I was six.