Keith Bickerstaffe Poet Verse

Moral Codes

...to my Mum


She was always in the kitchen, 
kneading pastry with good humour,
blending garnishes and gossip
as she plied her magic wand
and it was dinner time.

Struggling with algebra 
I'd agonize for hours, 'til frustration
got the best of me, she tucked me into bed.
In the morning she was ready with
a fried egg explanation and a hug.

Music was her gift to me, along with
many others, the sound of her soprano
voice still ringing in the air,
the wrath of God was nothing to
her tantrums at my misbehavior.

Sights and smells come bursting through
as if it were just yesterday,
gentle guidance and strict admonishments,
blending like her recipes
for cakes and moral codes.

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Kevin Leake November 26, 2015 at 12:38 PM A nice tribute to your mother Keith, Sounds like she had many talents!!! And a bit of discipline never hurt anyone, this poem has pobably made her very proud!!! Best Wishes Kevin Keith Bickerstaffe November 27, 2015 at 4:34 AM Thanks Kevin! Best wishes, Keith

RC Arts November 26, 2015 at 11:49 AM Hell hath no wrath like the wrath of mom, lol yes indeed. Keith Bickerstaffe November 27, 2015 at 4:34 AM You know it, Randall! Thank you my friend.

Tim Smith November 26, 2015 at 7:06 AM A tremendous tribute Keith. You mother is a special one. Keith Bickerstaffe November 26, 2015 at 9:34 AM Thanks Tim! much appreciated... Keith

Viv Wigley November 26, 2015 at 12:21 AM I can definitely relate to this piece, Keith- I have fond memories of playing on the kitchen floor whilst Mother towered above, mixing bowl in hand, stirring away and listening to 'Woman's hour' on the radio. And when she shouted my full name (including middle name) I knew I was in DEEP deep trouble... a great write, Keith, much enjoyed. Regards, Viv Keith Bickerstaffe November 26, 2015 at 9:42 AM Yes my friend... her baking skills and her beautiful soprano voice are my fondest memories. Thank you. Best wishes, Keith

Robert Lindley November 25, 2015 at 9:19 PM Sure reads a lot like my mother to me. She is still hanging on but in very bad health. And we pray to keep her -forever-! "Music was her gift to me, along with many others, the sound of her soprano voice still ringing in the air, the wrath of God was nothing to her tantrums at my misbehavior." ^^^^^ --Solid gold! A7 Keith Bickerstaffe November 25, 2015 at 9:53 PM Thank you Robert... yes, my mum was lead soprano with the church choir, and for a while my dad was tenor, my sister was an alto and little ol' me was a boy soprano. I can stil hear her sweet voice singing even now. Best wishes, Keith

Ilene Bauer November 25, 2015 at 7:33 PM brilliant, keith! i especially love the last verse. so good to see you here again... Keith Bickerstaffe November 25, 2015 at 7:56 PM ...that was 'here!' My typing is deteriorating! Alzheimer's I guess!! K. Keith Bickerstaffe November 25, 2015 at 7:54 PM It's so good to be hear! I'll be around much more often, and I'm looking forward to reading your poetry! Thank you, and best wishes, Keith :)