A perfect bath,

I ran the perfect bath, with the water left
just shy of too hot so my skin coppered
beneath the soft velvet of new-born petals;

clapping and cupping the water, I let it fall,
so its playful sound brought mum kneeling
once more besides me, watching, smiling,
a warmed towel ready;

while the high ceiling made radio songs
sound slightly sad and far away, and
the immersion tank hissed and bubbled
as it protested its emptying.

I found again the peace I once knew.

8 thoughts on “A PERFECT BATH

  1. A perfect bath indeed. Your sensitive poem brings to life memories and love
    that surrounded you. Each word painting a scene of warmth where at the
    end of play mum is waiting wit warm towels and lving arms.

    May you never loose that natural and easy peace, high ceiling or not.


    Liked by 1 person

  2. This makes me want to run a bath and sink into the warm water. There is such peace and love in this tender memory, Nige. I love the towel at the ready, and the ‘far away’ songs; it really adds to the nostalgic feel.

    Liked by 1 person

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