My family, not grand but warm and bright,
Bathed in faith, trust, love and long lasting light
With my spouse the linchpin, the centre stage,
A shining grand-daughter, eight years of age,
The apple of eye of the family,
A daughter-in-law, teaching happily,
Elder son dipped in programming passion,
A young one, with management attraction,
With all under my soft supervision,
Making four walls a home free from tension.
I asked Euston, my new son-in-law,
"Was it a car or a cat I saw?"
Euston saw I was not Sue.
He finds me (Sue's mom) a shrew,
so he scoffed, "Does a car have a claw?"
The mother-in-law woke me with her dry cough.
The electric alarm clock is registering 6am;
two hours since the baby’s last feed—
the one she came to help me with.
I crawl out of my warm bed to put the kettle on
and select the chipped coffee mug for her.
To the man who gave her her first steps and name,
Whose love, like a lighthouse, lit her through rain—
Before I held her hand in mine,
It was your strength where she would shine.
I vow not just to love your daughter dear,
But to honor the trust that brought me here.
To guard her smile the way you did,
Through every storm, through every bid.
You've watched her grow from child to grace,
And now, with tears, you give her place.
But know this truth as deep as skies:
In every promise, your role still lies.
For in her laugh, I hear your song,
In her courage, where you belong.
You raised her with a heart so wide,
That even I found home inside.
So I vow to be not just a husband and friend,
But a son to you, till journey’s end.
Thank you for the gift you give,
In her, your legacy shall live.
Face like a bulldog
She didn't understand "no"
She is the puppet master
To have a mother
In law is a great blessing
More so if she's good.
We find ourselves with you in time,
Thoughts of you are roaming our minds
Angels playing music at the Gate
Heaven will be Home; let's call it fate.
Do not be weary or troubled, my friend,
With words I write but not to offend
They are written down to help us, too
It's become part of our plight with you.
You'll always be this ray of light,
In our hearts, you're one of a kind
But when that day comes around
It will break the hearts of the abound.
We'll always celebrate the life we shared,
So, please, Mary, do not be despaired
We're closing now with this in mind
You're almost Home: The Angels are flying.
The Gate is open, a reception has started,
Music's playing for your departing
God's arms are open, ready to embrace
Your presence here was not disgraced.
*Special credits and thanks:
Co-Author & Sister, Deb Kellison
It takes maximum five seconds
to open the dishwasher,
place the cup in the machine
and close the door
When my husband
puts the coffee cup
in the dishwasher
It's not about the cup
by the sink ... but
Wait a minute ...
was it today
my mother was coming ?
We will design you a she-shed said her daughter-in-law
And maybe we’ll create a little patio for your husband Pa.
My friend was so shocked, she did not know what to say.
They presented her with their plans the very next day.
This arrogant gal is the mother of my friend’s only grandchild.
So she pretended to be okay with it, her response was rather mild.
I would have pulled out the rug and let her land on her petootsie I said.
How dare they give your house away to her parents before you are dead?
Eddie, could not have had a father better than you.
Think of all the places you took him, including to the zoo.
It’s mind blowing for me, to just count the hours,
That you spend at baseball,(I am glad for you.when it showers!)
You’re teaching him the Christian life that many Fathers, sadly do not.
And, thus I chose this picture to show the love you and Eddie have got.
Your love of baseball and teaching him I think he’s really quite hot!
So I am just popping in to say, Butch, that you have a very happy Father’s Day.
And I just know that everything is coming with many blessings..your way!
Love, Pangie aka Nana
6/18/2023
Dedicated to Butch, my outstanding Son-In-Law!
Try not to roll your eyes
when she is giving helpful hints
of how she does everything.
Make sure her son (your hubby)
calls her every Sunday
and offer to help her with her gardening chores
even though you detest everything
to do with gardening
Take her a cooked casserole
every week, and sit and watch
her favorite TV show with her.
It’s the little things that count more
And let her boast about her roast
and how he(her son) loves her cooking the most.
After all, one day, you too
will be a Mother-in- Law.
An aside: This is purely fictional and written
to a prompt - to write a How to poem.
I actually loved my Mother-in-Law and we got along
famously. I was heart broken when she passed away.
Prior to ceremony Lily’s future mother-in-law insisted on things her way
She introduced a prenup, and spoiled the bride’s entire wedding day
The groom acted embarrassed, but he lived in his parents’ house
So, he kept his mouth shut, did not even make the peep of a mouse
The future mother-in-law let the bride-to-be know how things would be.
Lily heard the rules of the house, housework would be done on her knee.
Bride watched interaction between her groom and the overbearing mother.
She ran off before the wedding, knowing she could do better with another.
My favorite ex-President-in-Law
Huge wad of tobacco set in his jaw
He'd spit some out on the rug
Said it did away with bugs
Yecch! George Bush Jr. dubbed it ~ 'Shock and Awe'
_______________________________________
Some of you may remember Operation 'Shock
and Awe' in Iraq during Junior's Presidency, back
in the day.
slits in the blinds
of a guestroom
leaking morning through
skinny orange white cat
follows an old man in his underwear
down the hall to the bathroom
and back to his bed
she meows, stands on his chest
rubs her nose on his head
purrs
licks his whiskers
--part of the hospitality package
echoes down the hall
cries
his almost two year old granddaughter
not letting her mommy sleep
so excited last night to see her grandpa
ran straight into his arms giggling
rattles down the hall
his soon to be son in law
in Kevlar and other prison gear
(garage door opens and closes)
puts "bob" at the end of his daughter's dad's name
thinks he's cute
kid knows whiskey, barbecue, and football
they get along just fine
buying a turkey for his ex today
might help her cook it too
just like last year
get to see his two little dogs
who will bark and whine and jump all over the place
the divorce made their two humans
pretty good friends
but he misses them
he'll stay all week
be sad to leave
little angel peeks into his bedroom
enters the doorway
she giggles
it isn't going to be a happy Thanksgiving
it already is
The destiny in a stirred syrup. A two-string one.
Condensed, sticky and uncomfortably glued to a cause.
A mono in nature.
Like a skilled handyman,
with a must to-do space.
A shared space.
A shared controversy.
A stained cloth. And an unapologetic face.
I am not a math-pro. I hate numbers. And I don’t watch captain underpants.
I am a freelance interpreter,
where medical terms reach both male and female bodies,
In the same manner.
The office space is all about this. Equity.
Up roaring hands in overturning platform.
I wanted.
I pleaded.
I turned myself into a special spice
in competition of her ethical or non-ethical one.
My poetry is not an arrogant one.
A mere self-sustaining one.
To calm through the fiercest stormy nights. A mono.
Where she needs rejection in knowledge,
I earned in pristine.
But both empty,
folded beyond junkies.
An arrogant junkyard, leading our visions,
in seas, mountains and
with these very own material eyes.
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