A son sends on his mother's poems

The elderly mother of a man, whom I know, died last week. Today he sent me two poems that she had written.

His sending me the poems touched me greatly and so too did the two poems.

Here they are.

Butterfly


When I was just a little girl, a little girl of three

I wished to be a butterfly – so pretty, flying free.

I’d flit among the leaves and sleep among the flowers

For that’s the way a butterfly enjoys the sunny hours.

But soon I got much taller, a happy, laughing girl

There were so many things to see, my brain was in a whirl.

I learnt to dance and then to sing and paly a part on stage,

In all my multi-colour clothes, I felt like all the rage.

Then next I met the only one that brought me true romance.

I knew he was the only one when he asked me up to dance.

And now I folded up my wings and lived a quiet life

I was happier than ever as a mother and a wife.

So if you turn the pages back I think you will agree

That the pretty little butterfly was really only me.


Thoughts on the 4th of July 1985


I lost my independence on Independence Day

But I didn’t really miss it as the years all rolled away,

For our home was full of babies, we were thrilled with every one –

A variety of daughters and a music-loving son.

We had lots of fun together and they made us very happy,

Even though we could have done without the ever-present nappy.

Oh, we had our days of darkness, all our troubles and our fears –

I remember just the best of times – I’ve forgotten all the tears.

There were picnics in the country, sunny days at Brittas Bay,

And schooldays – I remember every concert, every play.

Then the children all grew apace and stayed out after dark,

And neighbours oft were kept awake with larks in Ben Inagh Park.

But there were times when Frank and I could really be alone –

We’d take off on a holiday, just us two on our own.

We’ve lingered in the Louvre and sipped a glass of Rhenish wine,

Shared a gondola in Venice, thought that Malta was divine.

We’ve marvelled at Pompeii and we’ve strolled the streets of Rome.

It was great away together, but we gladly travelled home.

Oh, I’m never never lonely, for my children’s friends are mine

And now my children’s children little arms around me twin.