Lavender

May 14, 2023 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

Mother

She was the purple
ribbon in my hair

now tethered to me
during these golden years

as my failing eyes
still see her gentle face

there -
long beyond her life.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: xoxo

Style/Type: Free verse

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: United States

Favorite Poets: I tend to read Ted Kooser, Jim Harrison, Billy Collins, Paul Simon, Robert Frost. I like minimalist poetry, and poems reflecting on nature and Mother Earth.

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Comments

Trail

2 years 2 months ago

Who knew...

Who knew that so few words could elicit such a deep feeling?

Lavender

2 years 2 months ago

Sometimes fewer words,

are enough.
Thank you for reading. Appreciated!
L

Ruby Lord

2 years 2 months ago

So beautiful and touching.

So beautiful and touching. Compact, condense and concise, perfection in 31 words. Ruby :)

Lavender

2 years 2 months ago

Hello, Ruby,

Thank you for your lovely, generous comment. A little tribute to my Mother on Mother's Day. She was a feisty gem!
L

Rosewood Apothecary

2 years 2 months ago

This is so beautiful. The purple ribbon just completely grabs me and takes me along for a walk through the most precious memories but also continues on past some boundaries unknowable where this gentle face resides. Such an amazing metaphor and the timing of everything is perfect.

Sorry you miss your Mom. You’ve expressed something really profound here.

Tim

Lavender

2 years 2 months ago

Hello, My Wonderful Friend,

It was pure bliss to write such poetry about / for her. She read all my stories and poems when I was little. I'm glad you felt the journey. Your comments always mean a lot to me.
Thank you!
L

Bill Cushing

2 years 1 month ago

Nice tribute

And I can't resist sending my recent "mom" poem your way. . .
MIRRORED IMAGES
(for Jo Jo and Mom)

Two women sit, threading fingers,
intertwining generations.

Hands weave like vines of ivy
crawling along an ancient tree.

The mother—withered, infirm—
droops in the chair as she stares

at the other, her eyes vacant,
coated by the film of age.

The daughter—vibrant, lively—
rests soft palms over gnarled skin

that sags above bony fingers,
knuckles stiffened by arthritis.

So, the parent, now docile,
becomes nurtured by the child.

Lavender

2 years 1 month ago

Mirrored Images

Intertwining generations. How beautiful! Thank you for sharing this lovely sentiment! It will become even more precious as the years pass.
L

Seren

2 years 1 month ago

Dearest L

I am sitting here in awe of your magnificent talent. to say so much with so very little is truly a gift.

I have a wet face from Geezers poem and the tears rolling down were joined by more from this one, I'll say what I said there.

My face is wet. Brava!!!

Much love J xxx

Lavender

2 years ago

Hello, Dear Jayne,

Yep...Geezer's poem is so heartfelt and warm! Felt much the same as you when I read it. Our relationships with our mothers are the basis of many poems, I imagine. Mine was a dear...I was very blessed.
Thank you for reading!
Much love,
Lxxx