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Sunday 8 May 2011

                           Letter to my Mother

                        
                      
Mother,

My new born child,
kindled shaped and
fired in your love,
is
steering me back,
through channels
of ungrateful
adolesence.
Past stormy days
of alternating mood.
Past days when
I, in vampire mode
devoured your love’s
eternal patience,
or,
as an angel from
a Christmas play
all paper wings,
crept nearer for
the stroke of
loving hands
upon his neck,
back,
back.
To days when
memory is nothing,
but the knowledge
that once,
like mine,
your body stooped
to scoop a crying
infant to your breast.
And sang in all its
joy when tiny fingers
found your hair,
or
balled themselves to
rub the sleep from
eyes, the crying
‘whys’ of which,
you comforted.

For those years then,
where memories
are yours.
Thank you.

© James Rainsford


Posted in response to the Sunday poetry prompt on One Stop Poetry For 8th May.
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15 comments:

  1. ah james this is beautiful...the paper wings to stooping low...a fitting poem for the special moms in out lives....

    ps. not sure what trouble you had linking but drop me an email and let me know so i can look into it.

    btm2007@yahoo.com

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  2. yeah - i was a horrible teen as well...and she didn't stop to love me...beautiful write james - and like bri i also loved the paper wings..great image

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  3. Oh, now look what you did. May I have a tissue, please?

    Beautiful, James. Just beautiful.

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  4. "I, in vampire mode
    devoured your love’s
    eternal patience.."

    This reaches out and enthralls....

    let it be forever

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  5. If only mom's could step back into the early years... nice thoughts.

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  6. I love the steps back in time down long tunnels of memory. This was my favourite image.. I had to stop and read it again, for pure enjoyment of sound and intention:

    your body stooped
    to scoop a crying
    infant to your breast...

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  7. So beautiful, James. Words can't express how perfect and bright this poem is.

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  8. moving and beautiful poem, James. xj

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  9. I remember holding that little pink bundle in my hand, all blue eyes and blonde fuzz, she's seven this year-where does the time go? There's nothing quite like a mothers love James, thanks for this wonderful tribute

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  10. I love your piece above. It tells so much about a child and a mother and the love there. This is my first visit to your site. I will come again. Thank You!

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  11. We are all vampires and angels to our mothers. Beautiful.

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  12. Even in our darkest hours, some loves simply will not cease...and though we may turn our backs on them, those loves will remain, even if it takes us many years to realize...Beautiful tribute, speaking volumes on the relationship between mother and child in those rocky years...

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  13. This is beautiful.....beautiful!

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  14. James! Again, a wonderful, emotional, romp through my memories as I relate so well to your words. Oh, my poor dear, Mom and the things I've put her through...and now seeing my own daughter growing up, and dancing on the fringes much like myself...Today, it's my mother's smirk as I complain that tell's me I've got my payback coming! lol You have painted such a wonderful portrait...Thank you!

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  15. ..."when I in vampire mode devoured your eternal patience"... Really quite ingenious. And it is wise indeed to keep an infant photograph of your child nearby as they go through their teenage years! :).

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If you wish your views and opinions to be published here, please be polite and respectful. I welcome feedback on my work and will try to respond if you take the trouble to post a comment. Thanks for visiting 'The Sanctum of Sanity.' Hope you enjoyed the experience, James.