I never hated on my mother.
Even though she never understood me.
I didn’t fit her mold or pattern
So she couldn’t accept me as I was.
Her world wasn’t very big
And I suspected there was more.
This led to arguments and battles
That spanned so very many years.
I always knew she loved me
And though she made my life a struggle
I never learned to hate her.

In my 30’s and in therapy
I began to understand how
She did her best with what she knew.
She was crippled by my Grandma
Who was hobbled by her mother,
And right back down the Franklin Line.

There were no butterflies or comets
In their genealogy,
Only standard plain-wrap people
Who knew the heights were not for them
And didn’t feel the need to miss it.
People who got on with things,
And never thought the grass was greener
Any place but where they were.

How could they know a dragonfly
Would fill the space where I once stood
and learned to flit on gossamer wings
And ride a southbound zephyr
To places, times and happenings
They had no way to comprehend.
They just wanted me back home.

I never hated them for that,
Especially not my Mother.
She even seemed a little proud
When my name was in the paper.
And she finally accepted that
My life was wildly different.
Any hate I might have had
While growing up a rebel
Was dissipated long before
I celebrated forty.

Then I wed above our station
And she was an outsider
Trying hard to learn the dance
And get in step with culture
That was foreign to her background.
Aided by her innate grace
She fit into the puzzle and belonged.

The years rolled on and life passed by.
I didn’t call her the way I should
I visited much less than I could
But love replaced all trace of disdain.
At Eighty-two she said goodbye
In agonizing bits and pieces.  
She didn’t get a graceful death,
The Christian rest that she deserved.
I still hate all the fates and furies
That robbed her of a sweet farewell.

I never hated on my mom,
Naive Carolina girl
Left to raise 3 kids alone
Encumbered by her heritage.
I understand it better now
And I have only love for her.
ljm

I want to be your        
favourite poem
like the one
That becomes
Eternal
In your memory
That you find
Yourself constantly
Day dreaming
On cloud nine for
Your greatest escape,
A clash between
Illusion and cravings
Drifting away
As thunder striking
Stars exploding
Earth shattering
As our world align
Mouth full of us
Dripping lips
like honey
on a biscuit
Intoxicating thoughts
Drunken eyes
A word at a time
Nothing else matters
Only you and me
like Bonnie and Clyde
Your forever lasting poem
Opened gate of
A yearning desire
In a forever fleeting world