Mother Poem by Sarah Everson

Mother

Rating: 5.0


Mother's cranky still,
she'll be a year away
from ninety-nine, next March.
Face full of basal cells
and wrinkles to alert
the 4 by 4 Brigade,
she'll live to keep it all
and make us sweat,
I hear her words,
there'll be no passing on
of money, goods or zilch!
I have not died as yet,
and I'll be damned I will
before those Communists decide
to wipe the Muslims off
the very face of this here world!

I love my Mom, of course,
but there has been a sudden change
my understanding of the word,
the one they're calling LOVE
ain't quite the same these days.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Alison Cassidy 27 December 2008

Wonderful poem. An astute observation of a difficult relationship written without sentimentality. The final stanza rounds the piece of with a nice touch of irony. You say a lot without saying too much. I like this very much indeed. Love Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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