
The Language of Us
Doris Falidis-Nickolas’ poetry beautifully captures love, loss, and remembrance, offering comfort to those navigating grief.
FARNWORTH, Pauline.My Mother is always with me. She's the whisper of the leaves as I walk down the street. She's the smell of certain foods I remember, flowers I pick, the fragrance of life itself. She's the cool hand on my brow when I'm not feeling well. She's breath in the air on a cold winter's day. She is the sound of rain that lulls me to sleep, the colour of a rainbow. My Mother is the place I come from, my first home. She's the map I follow every step I take. She's my first love, my first friend, even my first enemy. But nothing on earth can separate, not time, not space...not even death. God only takes the best and you were the best. Love you to eternity. Your loving daughter, Christine. Reunited with Dad and Richard. One golden heart stopped beating. Bruno. Goodbye Grandma/Great-grandma, one more beautiful heart in heaven. Love Nicole, Matthew and Danielle.Paris, Natalija, Serenity, Ayrton and Xander. Sweet Dreams. Love you.
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