Trinity 的个人资料Runaway Soul Poetry照片日志列表更多  |  工具 帮助 |
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2月7日 My MomBorn of Irish and German descent
She had a Mother who was emotionally distant
Raised when society was economically bereft
Then the '37 flood took what little was left
She watched their new radio float down the street
Forced to leave home, rising water at her feet
In the alley she shot marbles with the boys
These were her precious toys
She had no bedroom, shared a couch
There were many things my Mom lived without
Her wedding picture in ordinary dress
During WW II extravagance was less
Seven children she and Dad made
Of these seven, two could not be saved
Her husband died when she was about forty-five
Left with her two youngest children
She managed to survive
When life threw my mom lemons
She made lemonade
She's mighty little, she's little but mighty
Patient as creeping English Ivy
She is the salt of the Earth
Has strength and perseverance
Like the raw earth in which she loves to plant and play
She is molded by the trials that blew her way
Strong as bamboo, solid as jade
Softly flexible, a sapling willow tree
Gently bent from life's winds blowing free
She is the beauty of a splashing sunset
Multi-colored and rare
Or like that huge full moon that rises
To it's apex in the air
She smells of mingling spices
Cinnamon, chives and sage
Warm chocolate chip cookies
Don't forget those devilled eggs!
She mixes up her own home cooking
Just like a master chef
Yet there's a special little something
One big dose of love if I had to guess
Today she owns her little robin's nest
This matriarch is the seed
For a myriad of descendents
A loving, prolific breed
For her family and home
She has said she is truly blessed
Independent like a bird, a lot like and eagle
Warm and cuddly like a beagle
With a sweet and simple soul
Indeed, she is my hero
However, one thing is for certain
Because it's hard to find her sins
That one day the gates of heaven
Will gladly open to let her in.
12/2003
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