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Tell Me Something Beautiful

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"Tell Me Something Beautiful" You could write me something beautiful to leave me when you are not here Someone told me the dead don’t speak they just listen I am reading you I am always Here I am front and centre right beside you I acknowledge you I am all ears You think we are finite that “mother” is just an absent word You say, "She" is always in "her head" She is lost, ridiculous, defunct and absurd To me "She" is always "Dead" I watch you sleep I hear and see every dream I read every word I feel you when you’re hurt I am inside your head You are something beautiful girl a soul soldier always holding LOVE tight and close defending the blind and the "Truth", It never ends turning green leaves to black-winged ravens watching all, oblivious to the pall they fly off the telephone lines in your electric pages always shining unacknowledged truth's camouflaged in your book you are remarkable my Hero holding it all in for what is to come tomorrow always walking barefoot over burning coals in your frosty Winter Garden your armour bearing secrets bearing witness to a life overturned and sold to move pieces on a table in the war room to sacrifice your own for the other to have a life of gold always holding your head strong haughty to hell with them all you hold your head always high it is okay my darling for you to cry when you are hurt that is strength, nothing wrong to feel, no value to deny your sharp and mighty sword draws it’s crimson line before The Shallows in low tide In your dreams I comfort you there we always embrace a mother and a daughter saving face in a destitute bitter, lonely, no fault of ours that dreadful "other" place secrets and knowledge it’s forensically "acknowledged" in the dna we write, we will always write away the hours and the nights and the slow fast-hour wasting days we always leave our secret code a measure in music we display we are Melba a la mode we sashay dreadful dreary aunts forgotten arsenic and old lace You and I now speak from lips that remained silent all these years Ouija numbers and letters smoothly gliding over-bored the common bond speaking with a mother that is dead three women holding hands unite one heart Purple A badge of Honour war-stained with blood and tears thicker than is water mothers and daughters always haunting never dead we will meet again in the Beautiful as true friends tell me something Beautiful I am beside you I am in front of you a ghost now true and invisible I am listening to you speak muted colours in our aged cheeks I am what’s in your Heart I am captured by your voice, I am not gone I am always yours We are, some would say not that unique yet entertaining hours that are bleak a hint of roses ectoplasm a hint of spider-web in the mist I am all ears when your soul decides to visit me I will listen When you speak (LadyLabyrinth / 2020) 18.9 2.8 18.9 “Soul Mining” / The The https://youtu.be/TrbkeBwNTGM LYRICS/ "Soul Mining", The The (Matt Johnson) https://genius.com/The-the-soul-mining-lyrics

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Lady Labyrinth

Date: 5/21/2021 2:08:00 AM

“A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path."-The Last Seance (from The Hound of Death and Other Stories, also Double Sin and Other Stories).Agatha Christie, The Hound of Death

Lady Labyrinth

Date: 12/7/2020 5:34:00 PM

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/conversations_with_a_daughter_creeps_1226007

Lady Labyrinth
Date: 12/7/2020 5:52:00 PM

gvlm, XMAS 2020. Love, as always, your mother.

Ts Poetry

Date: 12/7/2020 12:44:00 PM

That love never leaves

Lady Labyrinth
Date: 12/7/2020 1:43:00 PM

Betrayal wears a kind face you trust. et tu Brutus. One woman will see the mirror reflection of mothers and daughters in their own tears eventually. Let us hope it is not too late. If it is, I shall relish being a ghost to haunt.

Susan Woodrow

Date: 12/7/2020 6:46:00 AM

mother will always haunt me...this was beautiful :)

Lady Labyrinth
Date: 12/7/2020 1:44:00 PM

My daughter and my mother share significant dates. Birth and death, in that order. My mother's death arrived too soon many years prior to my daughter's birth. My mother was 32, in her 33rd year. One d. 18/9; the other b. 18/9. Numbers. Bittersweet. Perhaps there is something to reincarnation, I don't know the answer to that mystery, as no one does until they cross over to the other realm/s. My daughter is her own person, she will understand her choices in time. I see the ripple effect, it is a beautiful dream where contact will be made in the most extraordinary way/s. Nothing can keep a loving mother and daughter apart. All in good time. Here or thereafter.