You would still be here if you could
Chicken casserole soothed our soul on
Cold days with warm hugs
Wrong wipes but all was right
Dark times with bright eyes
Three presents minimum at every visit
Coat still on while you held her
You didn’t waste a minute
We’ll have to learn the names of the birds
(and the bees) on the hill
you would have shown her
forgotten gloves
in her haste to help you feed each winter, that will feel a little colder
We’ll gather acorns and trace leaves
And your steps
on walks you loved
While we tell her,
how you’d say
“I came with the autumn trees”
And how you adored your Grá mo Chroí
We’ll teach her to read,
curled up (to the toes)
With the books you chose
for us, for her
Stories stored away
To set her mind alight
And never read the same way twice.
We’ll show her the wildflowers
We’ll listen for bats
We’ll make footprints in flour
We’ll wear purple
And paint and play and write
We’ll make believe
You’re here to stir up magic
And set the world to rights
And I’ll sing your song to her
your voice in my ears
your love in my bones
You will be here.
- Author: Cliona ( Offline)
- Published: June 21st, 2022 13:56
- Comment from author about the poem: I lost my mother suddenly three months after becoming a mother. These words are weaving my memories into promises to keep her essence alive for her beloved baby grand-daughter who she nicknamed “Grá mo chroí” - love of my heart in Irish.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
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