• unscripted_writer 31w

    An ode-to mother

    Gently flows the brook,
    taking in its stride the gold
    and the old alike, turning for the rock,
    twisting for the cave,narrowing for the
    hedge, and broadening for the sea.
    Forever to mix in the vastness of emotions,
    to see, read, follow, love and breathe.
    And one such figure in my life,
    just like the flowing brook is my mother -
    a tender woman at heart, childish glee in mind,
    sharp taunt ready at tongue, with a
    smile that could bloom open a bud.
    Razor sharp memory enlightening her day,
    the sun and star, shining for my life.
    Twinkling eyes suggest a mystery,deep into the depth
    of a woman's heart, but love as it seems
    neither comes from the heart nor the mind.
    It is rather a song, flowing from her soul,
    A beauty which cannot be encrypted, but rather felt.
    A little choosy, a little cheeky, and a little frightened
    And yes-a little bluntness shapes my mother.
    But for the decades of life to come, it is her soothing
    love that can keep me going -further.