The Mother’s Day Experiment: A Breakfast-in-bed and Poetry Synergy.

Anecdotes From My Life: 14th Of May 2017.

Sunday mornings are a beautiful thing — the open air, the scent of new things to come.

Your name is a beautiful thing too — carved through the stretch of time; history has been made.

Sunday mornings have a gentle breeze — the rattle of leaves as mother nature embraces them.

Your kiss is a gentle breeze too, the wind on my face that says: I am strong again.

Sundays mornings have early rainfalls — each drop meanders the stream of creation.

Your laughter is a rainfall too; the thunder of humor and poise, you say: Happiness is a choice.

Sunday mornings have birds singing — close your eyes and listen; do you hear that? Flowers, too, awaken to dance.

Your love too, sings to those with ears to listen.

Sunday mornings have stories — the children play in the sand because that’s where the magic lies.

Your life is a story too; of strength, perseverance and romance. Socrates spoke of wisdom; you live it.

This Sunday morning, I made breakfast for you. Fried sausage, eggs and sandwich — the basics, but made out of love.

Author: Tyrone Takawira


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