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I heard thunder last evening
A rumbling, roaring beast.
I thought of you then,
As I lay staring up at an out of reach ceiling.
No, it did not represent your temper,
Nor your non-Latin heritage,
Nor even the flashing lightning of your smile.
No, my dearest mum,
It reminded me of your soothing hand on my brow
When I was young and scared.
Funny how a storm evokes such feelings.
Funny how I always pray for more.