Her Deft Hand…in beauty’s eye
Mother’s Deft hand…
Her deft hand upon the wheel,
a perfect mind in conscience seals
the movement of her faithful craft,
the balance of perfection after
all that’s done in conflict
against her.
Yet stoic in her stance,
accepting with grace, the imbalance,
she works for equilibrium,
a compromise in requiem
of all that’s done despite her love,
her proffered paradise, and bliss thereof.
And so maligned her precious sight,
her perfect ways diverse in plight,
that gives us all that we could ever ask,
in life such beauty, the aftermath of dreams,
yet we squander all, disrespect,
take and take without redress, our greed.
And she, without bitter taste,
works even more for us to awaken,
and recognize the gifts we’ve been bestowed,
and within the torrid wake of all that we create,
we see not the recompense,
just the harshness of life to sate.
Her elegant hand is beauty’s eye,
all that she in contiguous steps rely,
for she is process, perfection of being,
and we too selfish to live the dreams she offers,
instead, suck the marrow from her bones,
and care less what she has shown, in kindness.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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A stark eye-opener of how important it is to try and understand one’s mother better. Very well-written and emotive, Tony.
Glad you enjoyed it Phyllis. Cheers!
PS: I rewrote Till Death Do Us Part. Hope it is better now.
That made all the difference Phyllis. great!