Mother

“Mother” A Poem It was my hair day Time to get chopped And feel a change of sorts Taking my seat To rest my feet A lady beside me In her space wear helmet Was almost done Eileen was returned to her chair By two girls who exchanged a stare “If you know who needs the loo It’s not a pretty sight So don’t get a fright” It was a blessing that Eileen’s hearing was regressing As scissors danced with Lightning speed Hair rained down Upon my knees Just then the bell rang Someone’s face at the glass Enter son to collect mother at last Mother was nearly done Coffered and lacquered in front of her son “Button up Mother it’s cold outside Where’s your handbag love? Is it by your side”? Alone in my chair I didn’t mean to stare But the love that flowed Was a sight to behold In a world that is now Gone quite cold