I used to write poetry....I wrote this a while ago. I hope you can see my mom in it She could make castles from sand, and crowns from small plastic beads. Her hands lunged deep within her large black pot and stirred…and stirred so the batter would be smooth Now the cookies and the mud pies will rise She did not study theory, but she knew when her children needed a hand of correction a bowl of something filling, or a warm, safe, place where they could rest. She offered tissues and sympathy to the mothers and carried small sweets in her very large bag. She left the factory and joined the infantry so the village children and their moms, and their grandmas Could meet her Captain… who fights the battle ”when we just keep still” Her hands stitched cowboy vests and ball gowns and on Thursdays she danced in the water laughed with the sisters, and spun at the potter’s wheel. We reached for her cookies and her chocolate as soon as the final Thanksgiving plate had been cleaned They were amusing, they were delightful and they were so very sweet Now we will recall at each familiar sight and sound and smell that her love made an apartment a home, her generosity made a small Chrysler car a school bus, her talents turned flour and fruit into Christmas gifts She had that gift of taking something very very little and making it BIG!
Posted on: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 15:54:23 +0000
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