My mother was a catwalk model before she married.
Afterwards she kept her elegant ways;
wore stiletto shoes with ease.
The gold and silver, six inch heels
clicked bright sparks along
grey pavements of my childhood.
I moved to college and won top prize:
A gilt edged parchment card invited families
to the ceremony. My mother arrived well groomed
but shorter. She’d had to borrow granny’s boots:
Flat, fur-lined, tight with zips.
She slipped her feet beneath plush seats.
Hiding the cost of my higher education.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem has some wonderful images, my favourite being; 'clicked bright sparks along / grey pavements of my childhood.' It is also full of heart-felt emotion for an exceptional mother. An admirable poem. S :)