Just a piece I wrote about my Mother, shortly after she passed away...


Soft and ample was the breast of Mom, a special spot reserved for all who wished to share her strength.

Dark and round the face of hope.

The anquish of past years well hidden in her smile of love, hidden yet
there, for Momma had lived a many anxious hour by day, and cried
a many seeming thankless night.

The lateness of the hour haunts me, for it's now I know how, and
why to thank her.

A frowning face appeared before an over sleeping dreamy child of
short lived years, at once you'd know that time to start the day
had passed.

Iv'e learned that lesson well, Mom, for how could you or I have
done or do the things that dreams make easy and life proves
so demanding.

Iv'e learned lifes's lesson well, Mom, for I have had to swallow hard
to hold back long remembered tears of hurt, at times, and pocket
fists of anger.

So soft and ample was the breast of Mom, and how she must have
cared, for Momma never taught us hate...and she had reason.

How much I loved her.

How much I miss her.....

Poetry by Victoria Pearson
Read 776 times
Written on 2006-06-15 at 01:22

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