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| Category: | General Poetry |
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Posted: | May 17, 2017 Views: 28 |
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Hers were the waiting and un-betraying arms
warm, free of harm,
held wide open, hoping in welcome,
as needs brought me running
into her never shunning,
un-cold hold of needed mother
each time, anytime I reach for time
or felt inclined to unwind
or escape the crazy that had become all mine
there she would be, unselfishly cherishing me,
embellishing me with her love and her wisdom
her blessings but how she would give them to me
with her joy and laughter
for the disaster after she has gone
her love defeated all of the needed
unmentioned attention
and she never mistreated me
but she always greeted me as if she needed me
Always listening to my problems
as if she could solve them
and if she could she would,
all of them
even through her dying
I still kept relying on her strength,
her trying, her endurance, her common sense
her grace, her pretty face
will not be erased from my memory
or part from my heart
she will be remembered in our smile,
our style and in a little while we'll say,
"Hey it's just the way you moved with a sway,
the other day, it reminds me of Aunt Barbara
and it finds me constantly thinking about her."
But for now I will think of her peace
I will think of her rest
and try my best
to never think of her pain
it pains me to think of her pain
so...I will remain in good thoughts,
remain in good dreams,
by any means
I want to dream
about my queen...
Aunt Barbara....
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Author Notes
I realize that two words are not words but I decided to use- my poetic license for un-betraying and un-cold because I didn't like the way not betraying and not cold sounded in this poem.
My Aunt Barbara passed away in October of 2014. She was very, very special to me. When she told me that she was diagnosed with cancer I started to visit her almost every weekend for five years, before that I usually visited her once or twice a month.
She was my mother's sister. She was the Aunt that took me under her wing when my mother was dying and did not want me there at her death bed, although all of my other seven sisters and my one brother were all allowed to be there. I came to be there by her side anyway, even if I was just in our family home and not really by her side, I was there.
It's complicated but one day when I post my poem, "Mother Song" you will understand better - why that was.
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