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The Red-Ribboned Box Revisited
You wrote from your impassioned heart, dear Mama,
An ode, or a sonnet, penned without undue drama.
I sang your lyrics time and again, calling your name
They were your legacy; they never sounded the same
As when you gathered us toddlers into your arms,
And sang to us your sweet verses and psalms.
You wrote from your innermost being, dear Mama
Losing you brought all of us children great trauma.
We searched for comfort among your beautiful things
Your hair ribbons, your pictures, your wedding rings,
But nothing consoled us found among your frocks
Like the pages you saved in your red-ribboned box.
Time has faded the memories we shared long ago
Places we went before life dealt us that fateful blow
Leaving Dad and us children to forage on our own.
But Dad kept us together until we were fully grown
Sometimes we get together as opportunity knocks,
And, always read poems from Mom’s red-ribboned box.
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written March 8, 2021
Revised and Edited for "I Remember" Contest
Sponsored by Malabika Ray Choudhury
Copyright ©
L Milton Hankins
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