“Is that you?” His eyes are shut, he’s waving one arm about.
“It’s me.”
“Tell me a dream, a good dream.”
My voice is creaky with sleep, “Once upon a time there was a man and a woman and three children and they all loved each other and they were always kind and they lived happily ever after.”
He’s asleep.
Sometimes it’s not the story, not the words… sometimes it’s just the telling.
TM Upchurch 
Mind if I borrow your story – tonight?!
Love it 🙂
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Thank Lesley, of course — any time! (But if it’s earlier than 2am, you might be greeted with blank stares and asked for something slightly longer…)
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So true! 🙂
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Hi Berit, thanks for dropping by!
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This reminds me of the Kate Clanchy book ‘Newborn’ (Picardor, 2004); poems describing maternal experience. Very lovely and I so admire your serenity!
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Oh, that sounds lovely.
As for my serenity… it’s a fleeting thing. It comes and goes. Some days it goes way, wayyyyy away… 😉
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This is simply lovely.
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Awe thank you, that is very sweet 🙂
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Thanks Leanne! Your blue roses are beautiful, by the way.
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please visit http://paulaacton.wordpress.com/2012/06/18/lucky-meme/ and collect your award
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Hi Paula, congrats and thanks for including me — I’ve left a comment on your blog, but have already done the Lucky 7 post 🙂
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