The woman of my life she was,
No one could guess her cause.
Tying up her long hair in a bun,
She always made my life fun.
I was probably her worst nightmare
Livid, I never reciprocated her care.
She took it with a smile, all the bruises,
And lived a life with poor resources.
When I knew not, who was my mother,
Bereft or abandoned without a bother,
She came to my life like sunshine
To become a godmother, I could call mine!
Tears run down, as I kneel at her tomb
I wish I could lie back in her womb.
She was my one and only care-taker,
If only she was my mother!
Written for The Tuesday Platform.
You have taken a lot of care with your rhymes in this poem. The form gives a frame to your thoughts.
ReplyDeleteSometimes we find those wonderful people that are closer to us than parents or siblings... a sad lament.
ReplyDeletethe poem has a great rhyme scheme...which really helps with the flow.
ReplyDeletesounds as if you wrote this with plenty loving care, a memorial of sorts.
Beautiful, I love the care written here.
ReplyDelete@Kerry O'Connor
ReplyDeleteThank you!
@brudberg
ReplyDeleteTrue! Very.
@Stacy Lynn Mar
ReplyDeleteThank you. :)
@Buddah Moskowitz
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot! :)
There are those special people who mother us far more than the women who birthed us. They step into our heart's void. Beautiful melancholy in this.
ReplyDelete@Susie Clevenger
ReplyDeleteYes, thank you!
Better to appreciate what you had - even if you didn't realize what you had at the time. Somehow she knows... tender and moving poem.
ReplyDelete@Margaret.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Good. I too write some rhymes some times.
ReplyDeleteGood to visit your site as a part of my A to Z visits. My theme Blog Promotion
Welcome to A to Z April Blogging Challenge 2016 - Co-Participant - Nrao - NRao Blogs 1109
@knoltweet
NRao Blogs - 2016 A to Z Challenge Blog Posts
Management Theory Review
@Narayana Rao
ReplyDeleteThank you!