HER SON
The darkling firmament above,
no star, no moon declares its face
and in a dank and dusky room
a widow sits in deep despair.
Beneath her coat, begrimed and tattered,
wrapped in folds of off-white linen,
an infant loudly vents its voice
until assuaged in nursery fashion.
The mothers mind recalls the drums
and as he marched, his parting words:
‘Take care and always think of me,
it won’t be long till my return’.
With passing years, and still alone
with just her son to care for her
a lettered man of measured means
devoted to his mother’s needs.
And proud is she of who he is
and all the comfort he provides
in this the autumn of her life
with just her faded memories.
-
Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline) - Published: January 13th, 2017 02:16
- Comment from author about the poem: A longer one today plus another of my abstracts.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 49
Offline)
Comments10
Very sweet and poignant Michael.
Thanks MICHAEL ~ Love the ABSTRACT but the poem is not abstract it is real life for so many WAR WIDOWS ! Unfortunately we treat murder on the Battlefield as DULCE T DECORUM EST (Swet and Beautiful) PRO PATRI MORI (To die for ones Country). The Widows bare the brunt and see the face of their Love in the eyes of their sons. Thanks for a very poignant poem. Please check mine ~ thanks BRIAN.
Thanks muchly Kat WBL and Brian
Well versed and very poignant! -- phoenix
Cheers Phoenix
Wonderful write, love all the art youpost as wwell
A very good poem about mother and son. Absolutely loved it. Beautiful picture too!-Christina
Thanks so much for your comments Christina
Beautifully done. Touching.
Thanks fort hat Augustus
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