I fell in love with poetry
As boy upon my mother’s knee
She fed me rhymes to help me sleep
Read sonnets that would make me weep
She dressed me in a poet’s cloak
And sang to me each time I woke
Like Sappho, singing with her lyre
As I lay dreaming by the fire
Till Life dealt her that bitter blow
And sorrow in her soul did sow
Then she could voice her verse no more
Nor nurse me as she did before
Her sonnet-son she used to love
She slew that dear, defenceless dove
For mother, in my broken youth
Was widow, torn by tragic truth
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Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 16th, 2018 10:33
- Comment from author about the poem: I suppose this poem is my attempt to understand how my father's death could have caused such a rift between my mother and myself...
- Category: Family
- Views: 48
- Users favorite of this poem: GON, MaddieJ.
Offline)
Comments3
This was excellent! Thank you for sharing a poem about such a personal and profound topic. Sorry to hear of the "bitter blow."
Thank you so much. The sorrow was so long ago, expressing in verse heals the memories. Thank you.
you're very welcome!
nicely written
many thanks!
Nothing I can say to you that you yourself don't already know.
It takes strength to talk about things like that, much less write about it.
Well done sir.
Thank you. I appreciate your encouraging response. Again, thank you.
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