I Shall Write of It

A day in my life, I shall write of it The day my loving sainted mother died T'will not be your commonplace death obit But about the copious tears I cried. Raging anguish engulfed me from inside An anger seemingly to me unfit I could neither control nor set aside A day in my life, I shall write of it. I found a mourning place where I could sit Searching out secret solitude, I tried To find a special place where I would fit The day my loving sainted mother died. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried The gushing salty tears would never quit My grief overpowered my angry pride T’will not be your commonplace death obit. Sixty-four years have passed, I will admit, Mother has continued to be my guide I recall that day such a little bit But about the copious tears I cried. I shall write of it. April 25, 2021 The Rondeau Redouble (Modified) by Constance La France, an inspiration for this poem