Metaphor Mother Daughter Poems

Ursula, oh Ursula

As constellations go

Ursa Major in the sky

Forever do you glow.

________________________

Onto a world you gaze upon

Your perch upon a star

Lovingly you're watching me

A dear...

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Poem that is written with each gentle kiss

Music I play twitching the corners of my lips

Art brush paint four magnum opus till death

Final one I...

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The world tilts into a crescendo,
manifesting a lure of viral plague,
pervasive and fangs virulent,
sickening coquettish carnivorous creatures.

Why bother with their musings,
why care?

A question that reminds...

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Breast beat for her I doubt you fathom crude
Understand thus gravitas of thy actions true
This must entrust you knot the thread bear
Bang thy drum roll...

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Time may change me
But I can't trace time
-David Bowie

piercing morning winds threaten
to strip the trees of their
orange, golden and crimson gowns;
the resilient foliage
gripping tightly to...

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"Mother, 
             You are my heartbeat 
      ...

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Bits of what we had
Became unstrung, life then spun
Out of my control.
Then saw goodness of your soul...
Sadly cannot find them all....

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he is not human
like you and I
For she is my mistress 
I can not lie

I chance it all
To mount her peak
My mistress’s name
My wife now...

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White Lace

Mother died today. 
They called me. 
I thought they did not have, my number. 
They never called before, now. 
Why bother to call now?...

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My Love,

The sky reminded me of you today.
The sun set in lilac with a teasing tinge of pink—
just the way you used to love it.

On...

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like a dog with a bone,
 I
    threw  
            ...

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A spider plant* with many offshoots --
The mother firmly holds onto her little girl's hand at the nursery.


*Chlorophytum comosum...

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white
clean shirts
drying in 
sunlight on line
washed in detergent soap by mother’s hand!
our minds nurtured by mother’s love and care,
should last lifetime,
unspoilt by
time and 
wear!

‘Double Tetractys...

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As a poet it’s a challenge to put down in words
What a Mother’s hands mean to a child
But as an adult, if memory serves
I remember...

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We lived in a small room
Near the river
Ammi and I
She said she wasn’t pretty
I can’t imagine of anything
More graceful than her
She would devote hours 
peering at...

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