POEM: A Ballad Of Mother Love
This is my write for the CPC Friday Fling poetry challenge, where the topic is an incident showing mother love, and the preferred format is an 8-6-8-6 ballad. (My mother died at 63 in 1988 of ovarian cancer.)
Me and my mom, 1946
A BALLAD OF MOTHER LOVE
When I was young my mother’s love
was always quite apparent.
We both could see it in her eyes;
her kindness was transparent.
My sister Randi was just five
when our dad deserted.
So mother raised us both herself
with effort well concerted.
Oh, motherhood is not a job
that’s suited for the weak.
A mother’s love encourages
parenting at its peak.
No single incident stands out
in those fine thriteen years.
Well maybe when my snakes got loose,
which drove her near to tears.
I felt so bad I’d frightened her,
but she did not berate,
insisting that I take them out
inside a mesh-topped crate.
She let them stay in the garage,
rather than sack the lot,
Her budding herpetologist
was clearly loved a lot!
Oh, motherhood is not a job
that’s suited for the weak.
A mother’s love encourages
parenting at its peak.
Copyright May 9th 2013 RGD
c.1948