Today is celebrated as Mother’s Day.
Though not officially a prompt, POETIC BLOOMINGS offers you the opportunity to pay homage to your moms, either with a personal comment or a bit of poetics telling the world what makes your Mom the best for which you could have wished.
Whether you are still blessed by your mother’s presence or basking in your heartfelt memories of her, give mom her due. Just our way of saying:
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
It’s not Mother’s Day here, but what the heck!
Mother’s Day
Thirty years ago I lost my mother
un-maternal, she’d become a friend
until in later years she was my child.
Now at last to close the family circle
my daughter is my mother, I the child.
Doesn’t matter Viv. Today we’re celebrating mother’s all around the world. I just declared it an International Day. Happy Mother’s Day to ALL mothers!
It lends a lovely perspective to circles, my dear friend.
Yes — what Misky said. The circle continues…
Hear, hear. And Viv it is so good to see your work again. Warm smiles to you!
Thank you, Misky.
Oh Viv – how touching and lovely the circle …continues lovingly.
Beautiful, Viv. Circle, or spiral, the certainty of Mother-love.
No Smoke There
other people’s mothers wore skirts
and high heels even to vacuum –
she – no truck for girly silliness –
my mom wore white
sweatshirts and jeans rolled
at the bottom – bare feet in
summer
she was a waft of Channel #5
and cigarettes bobbing up
and down while she spoke
poking holes at the world with
her index finger – she told me
her friends called her Stretch
because she was so tall …
I knew she didn’t have to reach
to touch
the tip of
the sky
my mother…
some saw just
a kid
“too young to be
in love” – but
I knew ….
I knew ….
the truth
no smoke
no mirrors
Very nice, Pearl. A wonderful glimpse of mom! I’m
Where’s your mom’s picture with you? Too lovely not to share here 🙂
Splendid. Lovely. Heartwarming.
Sweet memories and a perfect ending, Pearl!
WOW! This is an amazing write, Pearl! Your use of wordplay without losing the poignancy is brilliant. WOW…
Love this too, Pearl, particular the airy imagery with perfume and smoke and poked holes… powerful pictures of her character.
Terrific, Pearl. Your last stanza reminded me of when I was about 10, someone knocked at the door and when my Mum answered it said “Is your mother in?”. I was naive enough to recognise the youthfulness of my parent rather than a salesman’s ploy!
Aww thank you one and all 🙂 – so lovely to be gardening here beside y’all.
A MOTHER LOST
I come to the grounds of your rest;
the best I can do to be with you today.
The sky is unsettled, and dreams long
since dreamed land clumsily shattering
like glass. I rub your stone; an image
of your name in charcoal remains,
stains of a heart broken, this small token
of the life you gave me. I listen and murmurs
blown though barren tree branches
whisper, waiting for the axe to fall.
And all at once it vanishes. Memories
of a mother departed still close to heart.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016
Lovely, Walt!
So beautifully expressed.
So much emotion here. Hugs.
murmurs blown through barren tree branches – wowser captures the melancholy and the song of love beautifully…
Walt, you mastered tensile and audible imagery here… loved this moment.
Including a link here (I hope) to an old Mother’s Day offering … and it also includes a couple more — (older Mother’s Day links) — at the bottom of the posting.) 😉
It feels a bit emotional coming back here again…
The Difficulties of Dogwoods and Lilacs
There was this worry,
that we’d wear out her name.
Mum! Mum! The way you’d wear out
your Sunday best shoes if you wore
them on Tuesdays or Thursdays.
The years have carved us into
a difficult relationship, but
I have learned a lot from my mother –
so I never smacked my children.
I chose words like treasures
because they can scar, get carried
around like a fat arse that
everyone tries to ignore, and
that scar just continues to hum
even when no one can remember
its tune. I spoke to Mum yesterday,
wished her a happy Mother’s Day.
She said she got a tray of seedlings
from my sister. The tag says they’re
asters, but they’re not, Mum said,
they’re zinnias. Don’t much like ‘um.
And, she said, the dogwood trees
are blooming. Last year they dug up
the maple trees because the roots
upended the pavements. (She tells me
this every time we speak, and it
was 4-years ago, not last year.)
I remember the dogwood tree outside
my bedroom window at our house, I said,
and Mum says, that was a lilac bush.
No, definitely a dogwood, I say,
I remember it blooming every year
when I studied for final exams.
Lilac, she insists, I remember it,
and you flunked most of your exams.
So I change the subject. Like I said,
I’ve learned a lot from Mum – when
and how to pick my battles, and how
to turn a conversation before it
becomes an eternal scar because
my mum also taught me that we love
each other even when it’s not easy.
*
(c) Misky 2016
It was an emotional return Marilyn. I though it might be, that’s why I offered this to get it out of our system. We’ll start Wednesday in earnest with a form prompt and should be daring to go by next Sunday. Happy to see everyone stepping up today.
Oh, hon … so much here. So much …
Oh Misky from the title throughout the narrative and the blossoms fallen, misread, and the ending where ultimately “we love each other even when it’s not easy”… so exquisite –
Oh Misky, this poem gently reached deeper and deeper into the stream with each stanza till it found the lovely smooth stone it was reaching for.
Something from one of my unsubmitted devotional books from years past:
A Mother’s Legacy
Tasked by God, their destiny in life
To pass in pain the next generation
To bear, to care for the next in line
The role accepted by willing women
Nine long months with child within
Maternal bonds grow strong between
Mother and child share all but soul
Two together, still one yet unseen
Then comes the day, the miracle, birth
Life springs forth, and God smiles down
Another wonder of His great love
Another diamond in mankind’s crown
All made possible by women willing
Through pain and tears bore you and me
The sacrifice years long they gave
As has been throughout history
Since Eve, until the end of time
Mankind will be their cross to bear
To pass life down from now to next
A Mother’s legacy, each one so rare
For all who give life, God bless each one
For each sacrifice, He has a reward
For Mother dear, thank you for my life
And for your love, I thank the Lord
“Share all but soul” … what an enlightening truth that escaped me. Wonderful stuff here, Earl.
Yes Earl – a reverent tribute and as Marie that “share all but soul” shimmered for me as well.
Excellent tribute, Earl!
Earl, what a tribute to a solid forever truth. Loved this.
The Mother of Alzheimer’s
Who birthed (unearthed)
This unwelcome invasion,
Or gave it the right
To hijack each occasion
Meant to endure and assure her
She’s loved. She belongs.
It ceaselessly wrongs her,
Assassinates her senses;
Condenses her being
To fleeting moments,
Thought amputation,
Self dislocation,
And few kin.
And it will win.
© Marie Elena Good, 2016
But y’all will put up one heck of a fight together. Love to mom and you and all mother’s who have inspired us throughout our lives!
We sure will, Walt. Thank you. ❤
Hugs to you, Marie!
Thank you, sweet friend!
An exceptional poem.
Thank you so much. That means a great deal to me, coming from the exceptional poet you are.
I’ve missed reading your work.
Me too you. 😉 ❤
Marie, exceptional indeed. “Condenses her being / to fleeting moments” is a perfect incrimination of this selfish disease. Stay strong for those moments. God love you both.
Thank you so very much, Damon. So kind.
A “GOLD-WATCH” MOM
She started
her career early
(at fifteen).
Her training
was on the job. Fifty-four
years on: going strong!
Such a creative title, Paula! Love this!
🙂 Thank you, Marie!
I love this. So energetic and full of cheer.
Plenty of strength in your words! Good start, Paula!
Thanks, Walt! If there’s one thing for sure, my mom is indeed strong!
So you say! Good for her and you!
Paula, you have honored the experienced professional here whose heart is engraved with love.
“thought amputation” powerful image in a soaring tribute to love, to righteous anger, to pain of loss and yes back to the power of forever love that will win even when the hijacker “it” may eventually appear the victor.
Thank you, Pearl.
THE GIFT HE GAVE
(for Josephine Amico Buttaci)
When God looked out at the world He made
And saw how His creatures had forgotten
His gift of creation,
When God saw the world rich in poverty,
Ruined by wars and filled with those
Empty of love,
And when God heard the hungry children
Crying, tricked, abandoned
In the streets,
When God thought of me, my brothers, my sisters
Not yet born into that unsafe world,
He created my mother.
#
Your love and respect are palpable. Wonderful, Sal.
Glad to have you with us, Salvatore! We are certainly glad He created your mother. She gave us you!
Loving gratitude for a pinnacle of His creation. Loving honor, Sal.
A great warm-up to the start of the POETIC BLOOMINGS rebirth. We return for keeps on Wednesday with our INFORM POETS feature. From what I’ve witnessed so far, I’m excited to get everyone together again. I can sum it up in three words: Poetry, Poetry, Poetry!
And i would counter with: Location! Location! Location! (That is: this beautiful garden!) Thanks for trending, Walt!
If I’m anything, I’m trendy!
LOL…that was supposed to be “tending”!!!
WHEN ( a poem to my mother)
When I entered this world
In traumatic uncertainty,
Your loving arms
They held me.
Uncertainty assured.
When I ran to you with skinned knee
In painful agony,
Your loving hands
They comforted me.
Agony assuaged.
When I questioned my faith
And perfect eternity,
Your life the example
Testified to me.
Eternity envisioned.
When I set my course
Standing independently,
Your trusting smile
Encouraged me.
Independence embraced.
When I entered motherhood
Harboring insecurity,
Your wise words
Gave strength to me.
Security encircled.
Nicely done, Connie. And welcome to POETIC BLOOMINGS. This poem is purely circle of life! I’ve enjoyed it.
Thanks. And thanks. Nice to be part of a poetry group.
You’ll find it a comfortable and supportive place, and we learn a thing or two along the way. Nice to have you with us.
Nice to meet you, Connie. Your mother sounds amazing, and she obviously handed down a wise heart to you. Nicely done!
Thanks Marie. And yes she did.
Great work Connie on the nature of episodic mothering… shows how our Mom’s’ love defines the title for us.