Mother
When will you be stone?
No more flesh to endure
your perpetual toil
Your ethereal eyes
cast a downward glance
The hem of your white gown
drapes to the ground
I awake
to your wind roughened face
your hobo rags
the sound of your voice
urging me to dance, and dance
No more flesh to endure
your perpetual toil
Your ethereal eyes
cast a downward glance
The hem of your white gown
drapes to the ground
I awake
to your wind roughened face
your hobo rags
the sound of your voice
urging me to dance, and dance
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Christmas Poems
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/22/2021 5:16:20 AM # 1.0.0.560
