Image for the poem yesterday


the last apronsong
life reflections through my mother’s eyes
"You shall come to your grave in ripe old age, like a sheaf
gathered up in its season.”  —Job 5:26 ESV

they sealed me in my grave
far away
from hills where i was brave
seven years
ago with naked eyes
through glad tears
i gloried at the skies
every word  
upon my page was clear
as i lured
the world upon my ear
quiet morn
first-daughter pierced my womb
thus was born
my nine-point baby boom
bible man
took all my stock in trade
how we ran
until he bowed his head!
british days
eleven years detained
of the rays
that perfect love sustained
home at last
my prince, his labour done
sweet repast
new honeymoon begun
purple hues
resplendent palette-mix
colours true
my worst days yet could fix
fountain love
o'erflows for kindred souls
from the trove
that through my bosom rolls
the years since i was wed
though alone
for thirteen in my bed
little girl
with discipline i grew
like a pearl
hid by a perfect dew
came a voice
that swept me off my feet
perfect choice
my happiness complete
early years
hemmed by domestic chores
yet my tears
were God's eclectic cures
mother's arms
swift-snatched away from me
ere her charms
could give me liberty
blazing sun
that welcomed me to earth
haven't i done
my threescore-ten-years’ worth?
they sealed me in my grave
changed, this clay
shall triumph with the brave
© Copyright 2020 July 25
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Written by cabcool
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