My Italian Mother's Dream Poem by Edmund V. Strolis

My Italian Mother's Dream

Rating: 5.0


Your little patio, alone with time and fate
How fragile you seemed on that bench
Staring at the traffic, everyone in a hurry
No time to bring a smile or a story

This was no garden street in far off Italy
No this was your island in America
A place to wait and wish that fate or mercy
Had taken you along with him

A garden oasis by the busy road humming
Subsiding you could hear your Italian fountain
With broom in hand like a shepherd's staff
You watched the world pass by

With a faraway look in your proud worry-worn eyes
You rose slowly and got in that big car of yours
We did not protest although it scared us to death
You would visit him until your own time of rest

My Italian Mother's Dream
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: dream,love,mother
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Susan Williams 22 June 2016

This is the kind of writing I want to do- - sketching a portrait of a person with words and actions to the point that the reader feels like he's read a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end, to the point where the reader feels he knows that person and would definitely like to know more. Exceptional poem, Edmund, exceptional. A 10++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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Sarah Persson 25 May 2016

This is absolutely beautiful. I can just picture your Mothers face, that look in her eyes. I guess she did what she needed to. We all have needs but only our true selves knows the depth of the need.

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Pamela Sinicrope 09 May 2016

This is a beautiful multi-layered poem from beginning to end Edmund. The title is so meaningful. The word dream has multiple meanings and the idea of what is real, what is imagined, and what is dreamed is explored from the context of a son observing his mother in childhood, but remembering as a full grown man. I'm a sucker for poems written by men about their mothers. It's probably because I'm a mother of three boys. Yes, this poem represents much of what you are capable of as a writer, though I also love your character sketches and dramatic imagery in your other work. I saw this poem as you writing about your mother visiting your father's grave...buried in the U.S. or remembering him in Italy? , While Italy was a communal place, there is no one to stop and talk to in the U.S. they're all too busy....and the broom? Representative of your mother working hard to make a living or just working hard at woman's work? You were there watching her every step of the way... What was your mother's dream? Life in Italy and making a better life for her children in the U.S? Beautiful yet sad poem. Thanks for sharing Edmund.

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Unnikrishnan E S 08 May 2016

A perfect 10 for you Edmund

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Unnikrishnan E S 08 May 2016

Edmund, How true about todays life! Everyone is in his own island, with hardly any time for others, even they live under the same roof. With a far away look in your worry-worn eyes- this line makes my eyes moist! Thank you sharing this beautiful poem. It is about all mothers1 mine too! ! ! Congrats!

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