This year's remembrance. Miss you, Mum.
This Woman
This woman I love, but do not know,
Whose touch nurtured and calmed me, had to go away.
Her voice spoke my name, murmuring her love. If she called out to me now, would I recognize her honeyed tones?
She is a woman of deep mystery.
In her thoughts I will never delve; her mind I will never explore.
She remains Undiscovered. Unseen.But, ah! yes, others remember and cry and share and smile and cry again.
They feed me hushed memories and cherished moments. Give them to me! for I will feast upon your delicious articulations.
Absent. Near.
Never forgotten.
Always treasured. Always loved.
Still so very needed, and oh so very missed.
My mother.
Could she not stay with me through childhood? Must her sunset eclipse my dawn?
2 comments:
Is that you singing? Sounds like you. Very touching video and I really like your poem. LYHGO
Thanks, J! No, it's not me singing. It's Jackie DeShannon, and it was recorded in 1965 - a long time before Mum died, but it still always reminds me of her whenever I hear it.
LYHGO2!
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