Gold Jewellery & Heavy Perfume

I had a strange moment the other day I was actually my mum in a peculiar way In the Sunday Roast veg peeling zone At her sink, in her home, a Jane Sadler clone When I'd hear "you sound just like mum" It was something I'd always coil away from I'd reject it, offended, dejected Insulted, downright disrespected But now I wholeheartedly embrace it In fact, I'm honoured to take it Wearing lipstick, gold jewellery, heavy perfume Not frightened as the mum-in-me blooms

A few things of course I wish I'd have swerved The headaches and chilblains I don't deserve Why wasn't i blessed with her slim waist? Her green fingers, her natural grace? Parts I damn-right refuse to take Her introspective depressed states The dementia that's stolen these years from her

Her culinary style I plan not to transfer She loved to live life, not sit on the benches Loved travelling, history and beautiful churches.

Never afraid to speak up for the voiceless No better women to have in a crisis My mum is beautiful, why wouldn't I mimic A woman whose love for me knows no limit I miss her a little less these days Knowing she's here in my mum-like ways