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Mamma

September 2, 2013
By Anonymous

Woman,
Who makes illuminated laughs
Percolate at the top of my very soul.
Crack,
And I giggle as I wonder,
Wonder about your sunflower core?
I like to think that your immortal self,
Will slather this world,
Forever,
And,
Ever,
With education and serene
Hope.
Then I remember…
A magnificent rose as you are,
Lives on,
Winter after winter,
After spring.
Mama,
You ride in a wagon of boysenberry scarves,
Embedding yourself in hope,
And youth waving spirit.
You take my sullen hand,
And churn it in to gleeful change.
You take my sullen head,
And whisper words of a better sun.
You take my sullen heart,
And massage red geranium love,
Back into it forever and always.
In this time of jolly eyes and contemplation,
May I guide you to a labyrinth,
Of commemorating sisterhood,
Where rhapsodies of love,
Remind you of me!

© Anonymous

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