My Mother the Poet

SS Pink halos detail peony peonies.jpg

Pink Halo Peonies ~ Pandora's Box Cover Art

 

Tonight I read to my Mother from her own book of published poems. As I read, I glanced at her from time to time in her hospital bed. She lay with her eyes bright and alert. As I finished each poem she had written, I would meet her eyes briefly and she would meet mine, with a bit of a smile shared between us.

As I read to her, it occurred to me, my reading voice has the same inflection my Mother's voice had when she read to us as children. Because her hands can no longer grip properly, I held the book upright for her, showing her each poem and the painting I had chosen to go with it.

When I finished the last poem, the one she had written about her Father, I said to Mom, "The end." She turned to me with a smile and said, "That was good."

And it was. It was very good.

Gentle Thoughts

Drifting, drifting

back in time,

poignant memories

brush my mind.

 

When we were young

and life was sweet

I danced with you

in sandled feet.

 

You were so tall and I so low

I had to kiss you

on tiptoe.

 

My faithful friend

so strong, so true

I loved you but

you never knew.

 

Elsie Leighton Becker