“The Day’s Gift To Every Mother”

Posted: March 9, 2013 in Prose
Tags: , ,

The Days Gift To Every Mother

The Skittles and the Jelly tots, Cakes both Fairy and of Pan,
Sausages, all so piping hot, sultanas and all bran,
Laces tied up, always checked, in case a trip was planted,
Saliva washes, on ear, nose ‘n’ neck, all now taken for by the granted.

Lunch money, or packed sandwiches, and never wont of feed,
Transport to the ‘to and from’, love in every deed,
Butter on a piece of toast, a bib when teeth weren’t there,
A cuddle, oh, that was the most, a smile just full of care.

The proudest on the sidelines, as you grew every day,
Those words of comfort, that told you, you were a great sheep in the Nativity play
Requests of your room that needed tidying, requests of packed bags being ready for school,
Platforms for every soldier or princess, this woman is never a fool.

Her presence in your cuts and scrapes, would make a gaping hole disappear,
And most of us, when troubled, call out to her, to be near,
Does she reject the call, however busy? No…., she turns up every time,
No matter how troubled, herself maybe, she has never been a mime.

An Apron, an Apple, a pastry, a Hot roast Sunday Dinner,
A knowing, that in all her teachings, We can be sinner. We can be winner,
The one moment that must crush her, knowing it is all for the best,
That her whole being must morph with ours, as we fly away the nest.

For us all, tis natural, for we, as we fly , we feel forever young,
For her, it is a different song, still she harmonises to what must be sung,
She has taught us true, wrong from right, in the best understanding of herself,
Reared us, shared us, geared us, and walked us to the shelf.

Pink medicine, when we’re weary, coloured balloons at every age,

A little rub of kindness, another bedtime book turned page,
She never stops believing, that you can be the one,
And yet, she knows she sacrificed, just so your dreams may be done.

Bread and Butter Pudding, hundreds and thousands on dry bread,
Hand me downs, and promises, a new cover on your bed,
Look high, look low, search deep, and ask, can you mine as deep as she?
I suspect, your answer has to be Yes, that how she wanted you to be.

So, On this day, I’ll celebrate mine, in every breath, passion, and thought,
I’ll remember how she lifted me, remember what she taught,
In our simplest, basic, deepest heart, in time, there can never be never any other,

So let this prose,

be a bouquet of rhyme,

as the days gift to every Mother.

Happy Mother Day . xxxx

Voice

Comments
  1. margie says:

    So many memories come to mind as I read this, it’s
    just beautiful.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s