On Mothering Sunday

Mother of Parliaments

We thousands stand on 
a February winter morning, 
outside the Mother of Parliaments.
The sun hides behind clouds, ashamed.
Placards and flags lean against the wind, 
as we witness, sing and chant.
Thousands of miles away, 
under this same sun, 
hands stretch out
for food, for hope. 
You offer nothing but 
words, words, words
to shelter infant bodies 
from bombs.

(c) S.Abdallah