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Click hereNote from the author-
This is a poem I wrote as I sat remembering my mother. She passed two years ago and the boy’s feather story was always her favorite. Although it happened over 50 years ago, she still remembered it the day she passed. That morning she must have know something we didn’t, for she was retelling all her favorite memories of us kids as we were growing up. I know it’s not perfect and I’m still learning to write this stuff, but it portrays an event in my mother’s life and I know she’d be happy to know I shared it with you. I hope it brings you a laugh or at least a smile.
GIVE THEM WINGS
Children are the sweetest things
That is until they have wings
Wings to fly and soar about
Wreaking havoc making grandparent’s shout
What is this child doing in here?
Is heard clearly from far and near.
Then dad gives up and shrugs his shoulders
And heads to the bar for a beer.
Then mothers’ left to calm the chaos
As little ones run amok
The older siblings do their share
And stick a feather in mother’s hair!
She says ‘hey lets get outta here.”
And takes them to the market
“Don’t take anything off the shelves”
“Or put anything in your pockets!”
Up the isle and down the isle
Checking things of her list
A glare and a snicker from passersby
Caused her to stop and wonder why
To her good fortune she stopped just in time
In the isle of health and beauty
She picked up a mirror and to her chagrin
She noticed a hair upon her chin
She plucked the hair without a thought
Then continued to walk and shop about
The snickers continue from all around
As she heads to the cashier to pay
When a kind old lady taps her arm
“Excuse me ma’am I mean no harm.”
“I did not intentionally mean to stare,”
“But I have to let you know,”
“Sweet mother of those 4 boys over there,”
“I can see now why they look so scared”
“You see it is a matter of fact”
“They’ve stuck a feather in your hair!”
“Please, please mommy don’t be mad
We didn’t mean to make you sad.”
With a smile the youngest one said
“We just wanted you to feel pretty!”
Mother smiled and paid for her things
Then grabbed her children by their wings
With heads held high they walked on by
Those that had snickered and glared.
At the end of the day the youngest one prayed
On bended knee at the end of his bed
Thank you lord for giving me
A mommy prettier than a worm!
We love you mom!
1922-2005
You coulda put a "tissue alert" warning as a disclaimer! Wonderful poem, my friend! :)