I love you Mom
My healthy arm will be your stay; And I will smooth your pain
away; And when I see you hang your head; It will be my turn
to watch your bed; And tears of sweet affection shed. "
Quote - from Ann Taylor's poem, My Mother
I will turn back the pages of sorrow,
to the sad May day my mother left me;
the details recalled each 'morn and 'morrow,
as her breath became gasps- I did not flee.
Then, stood by her coffin screaming inside,
tears falling, whispering- oh, why God why;
she had left me on Mother's Day that year,
to her cold headstone my thoughts often glide;
I set her free- so up, up she could fly,
turn off life support . . . I said with a tear !
Mother was my very best friend always,
loved her garden and country adventures;
mom, so calm even when roads were a maze,
so we would stop the car to take pictures.
Our home had a huge vast sunny garden,
since a child I helped mom with the flowers;
those days are some of my best memories,
nesting close by we had a Blue Martin;
we could linger there for - hours, hours and hours,
Mother's day . . . will be lost in reveries !
I never met a more joyful kind soul,
my sweet mom embraced every single day;
to others she had so much self-control,
mother was happy and gay everyday.
She made each birthday a celebration,
each Christmas Day . . . gifts, family and food;
I was mothers decoration helper,
think that I was often her frustration;
always to my poetry she was glued,
my mom was my rock, true north and shelter !
Copyright ©
Constance La France
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