( a poem for the child who is, right now, utterly perfect ) The 5 year old is a treasure to behold As he lay his head on my lap this evening I took in his beautiful youth The curve of his button-nose The flawless skin and sparkling eyes The world has not yet soured him He is, in fact, perfect A ...
Archives for September 2026
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Time Going
( a poem for when the years fly by ) Where is the time going? He’s now walking, albeit it wobbly And he’s now in preschool Only yesterday Wrapped in a swaddle in my arms, newborn Where is the time going? Yet again, the dishes are dirty The floor is strewn with Duplo And I am here, not ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Early Days
( a poem for the slow, lazy days with a little one ) Oh the early days The lazy ways An endless summer Heat, all a haze The cuddles, the sways The looks and the nuzzles The kisses & cuddles Never cease to amaze What a treat, a delight What treasures alight A mother And her child The mother ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Soak Up
( a poem for soaking up the baby days ) Go soak up that gorgeous baby of yours mamaThe scent, the softness, the smiles, the dramaIt’s not too good to be true you knowThey’re realThey’re rawUntouchedPureIn every sense of the wordEvery nuzzle and whimper heardLap this time up mamaOur babies grow ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Transfixed
( a poem for when you can’t stop looking at them ) I look at you in detail Transfixed, mesmerized, For you - are the miracle to behold One of exquisite beauty, flawless Intricate and soft my baby - now a boy! The rolls slowly give way to muscle Baby fat melts along with my heart Which ever so ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Six Years New
( a poem for the one who got us through ) Six years of marriage to you It's Iron - this one I thought you knew But perhaps you don't know? Just how much I love you so Here, read, now, below This year I almost lost you To a wave that took your heart and soul Yet the goal I know Was not to take ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Mothers
( a poem for what really matters ) I will never say I wish I’d worked harder When all I had to do was hold you I will never say I was too bored or too tired When all I have in fact, is you I will always, always say I love you Because that’s what mothers do Sophie More poems for this ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
A Mother’s Heart
( a poem for the September they start school ) Oh it breaks my heart you’re growing up,My B, my babyI love you to the ends of the earth, tears fall as I write this!For I know before long, September will be here, and I will somewhat have to let you goTo school - to be influenced by someone elseI ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Little Fingers
( a poem for holding on to babyhood ) Little fingers and chubby thumbs are still there I am clinging on Grasping babyhood as it slips through my fingers Indeed It goes fast But only when you look back Flicking through photos and books from yesteryear Wondering Was I present enough? Did I love ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Swear to Me
( a poem for when the world feels hard ) Swear to me, please swear, you won’t let your heart harden You won’t allow fears of others to taint your view of the world There is a rhetoric, of unwelcomeness and divisiveness Which only hurts people even more, you, me, all of us I only ask you to swear ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
The Walk Home
( a poem for the mothers who smile at the school gate ) It doesn’t get easier; they tell you it does, and they told me too. But it doesn’t. Not when you’re handing them over to a system you didn’t choose, watching them hang their tiny little coats on tiny pegs, wondering if their hearts hurt the ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
Searching
( a poem for when you miss who you were ) You can spend your whole life searching Or, you can bring yourself back to the here and now And realise that you’re wasting so much time Searching You’re looking for answers Reaching for the next best thing Distracting yourself Yet you’ll never find what ...
If this spoke to you
The Sunday Letter
Coming soon: a poem, a gentle practice and one mother's voice, every Sunday morning. Until then, a new poem arrives on Instagram each week.
Your host
Hello, I'm Sophie
Poet, mother of two boys, and the one who lights the candles here. This space belongs to all of us. Read our story
