Remembering Mother On Mother's Day

Remembering Mother on Mother's Day While I was growing up, I remembered The time my parents Bought me a brand-new pair Of rubber-soled, hi-top, black Canvas running shoes. To say I was as proud as a peacock When I donned the footwear, Was an understatement. My Dad encouraged me to run (As fast as my legs could carry me) With those sneakers on my feet, all laced up, Down the lane I ran, As fast as I could go, And tripped over my own two feet. I could hear my dad laughing As I tried My very best not to cry (Skinned shins and all). Then, I saw my mother running Towards me. Into her arms, she swept my head. And then bent over To kiss both of my knees, quickly. “There,” she said, “The hurt is gone away.” The pain was still there, but I felt guilty And said; “I feel better.” My dad, still laughing, watched, And I felt ashamed: For my clumsiness, And loving my mother’s Coddling. After an arduous day of play, And eating everything My Mother set on my plate; She or my dad would read me to sleep. And in dreams, I would live fantasies. But there were times Nightmares awakened me; Scaring me half to death, as I lay trembling, In my PJs with the blankets pulled over my head. How my Mother ever knew Remained a mystery. But she would be there, Sitting on the edge of the bed; With her hand Softly stroking my forehead. Whispering, loving words, To reassure and comfort me, And lull me back to sleep.