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Nov 2017
Happy 83rd birthday to thy cremated mom

Harriet Harris fought tooth and nail
Mother succumbed
to terminal illness without fail
Ovarian/ Uterine Cancer to no avail
hosted by death feasted fancy
at Oyster Bay metastasized inducing this male
the sol son to grapple as psyche didst ail.
***********
Major organs compromized grim reaper and
carried corpse into dead zone as a keeper brand
donned as one Canarsie flashy dame grand
ball room dancer didst skittered in right hand
side o' me noggin, the idea flit ta left land
of gray matter thru me mined task didst ex panned

foregoing bidding on e-bay, ruminate how trite
online shenanagins, never asking nor knowing spite
most likely raged within yar being,
which lack of filial duty haint right
to be near where psyche flails quite
understandably, but no matter matthew scott

never did ask, how emotions most clear aflame
with anger writhing asper your terminal plight
vis a vis injustice to ****** desire with shroud of night
arising each morning to brilliant light

ye, thy lover of life becoming ashen gray
with recurring incomplete bucket list that may
already, a dozen plus years ago - neigh
aye methinks, so much deprived of grandchildren ply
their oars thru the time stream, how **** sigh
to partake whence thee drew final breath thy
avoid seeing thee stiffen with rigor mortis, why...

did unlucky dice throw of fate
rob and steal unattained goals ye strove with grate
fully before out bidden by dead souls, who hate
mortals to complete, thus truncate a lifelong mate
to papa, whom recouped severe loss, though his pate

undoubtedly flits with remembrance
of thee one he did highly rate
despite occasions, where spats hood did vitiate

this son feels he did not booster morale at all
with Huzzah, but stood mute in proximity
when ye didst call
in kitchen of century old stone
mansion built and hall

ways echo wing the absence sans pall
in droning sounds of silence, a squall
vacuumed a key per, a gal fairly tall
whose son now reflects how many a wall
he figuratively erected shuttered from y'all

that home razed, yet memory of complex edifice
still intact, averse to let eyes sweep, the home I miss
analogous to house at Pooh’s Corner
viz shared with a younger and older loving sis

both edging into their twilight zoned time on earth
re: the outer limits of expected longevity, yet stoking
the coals essence of each their respective hearth
324 Level Road Collegeville above recaptured
with recollections of merriment and mirth
oft occasions this sol heir withholding telling worth

thee ness, and must therefore purge such grief
considerably less than when pages
of me life seemed like a shuffled sheaf
or soon after yar demise, a sense of drowning
without recourse to being rescued,
nor near enough to grasp hold of any reef

that home stead, blessedly played important role
constituent key residence like quasar pole
sated light years removed from civilization, when goal
acquisition February 28th 1968 won land slide cole

essence tract of idyllic radiance upon open space
already slated tubby outfitted, transformed for race
sing urbanity asper mobile Americans at a pace
greater than mother nature shows amazing grace
as commercialization takes charge and doth efface,

the once bucolic, ecologic, and idyllic
forces this sentimental sir
to latch upon steady brace
bemoaning and tempted to take ace

hip of hemlock to forego discontent with bing hue
man, who cherished tender mother-son glue
and wondrous tribulation, 
I harbored enshrined and unwittingly flew
from pristine sanctuary secured
deeply in consciousness,

which access to retrieve circumstances
of myself as a boy still dwells in this man shun - clew
less nothing can recreate, nor reconstruct boyhood,
teenage and adult hood pangs
scare me wide-awake
whar frightful dreams serve as boo

stirring of dormant sentiment,
especially thee 13th day n 11th month
of each year
the aura, charisma, and persona, veer
dims sum milk of human kindness bequeathed tear
ring inner sanctum, where
this offspring doth miss his mum, he doth rare
lee shed light, only when faux pause (all faux)
aye scrawl a mini opus knowing you will

never be cognizant, extant, for me to grant mere
cathartic expunging in situ flowing emotions hear
able only to live kith and kin or
akin to Rapunzel unfurling tress buffeted hair

inside my being for love unspoken dare
ring father hood got taught true value, sans two beautiful
grand daughters ye would marvel
poignant traits, and disbelief that this bare
wren wove within DNA lasses who usher an air.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
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