To My Mother

Most near, most dear, most loved and most far,
Under the window where I often found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter,
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand,
Irresistible as Rabelais, but most tender for
The lame dogs and hurt birds that surround her -
She is a procession no one can follow after
But be like a little dog following a brass band.

She will not glance up at the bomber, or condescend
To drop her gin and scuttle to a cellar,
But lean on the mahogany table like a mountain
Whom only faith can move, and so I send
O all my faith, and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning.

by George Barker

Comments (12)

Nice tribute to Mother
A fantastic tribute paid to the loveliest person on earth, that is mother. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
Asia, so big it doesn't want to own up to Europe. Or Europe so petite it denies its rump?
hmmn....You Wrote it better.welldone
Wow! What a tribute- -what a Mother! ! ! Yet, though all Mothers could not be as brave in a bombing attack, many Mothers have their brand of bravery that they meet life's difficulties with, be it grace, humor, patience, or quiet wisdom. May all lovely Mothers get such heart felt tributes before they leave us at life's end.
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