The exercise:
Today, like every other day of the year, is Mother's Day. My mom is prancing around Europe with my dad at the moment, so this will have to be my present to her. Feel free to share a thought or two on your mother.
Mine:
Your deep seated fear of flying
Didn't stop you from complying
With Dad's desire to travel -
You just needed gin and Gravol.
Enjoy your time with your sister,
I know that you've really missed her;
And though Dad won't get you up there,
Spare the Eiffel Tower a stare.
Take in the countryside in France,
Share with Dad a slow moonlit dance;
And when you're done with those church domes,
We'll be waiting for you at home.
3 comments:
I haven't been by that much lately, apologies. I hope I can make up for my absence by adding a second offering for today:
My mother's eyes are black & proud
They burn with fires unspoken
Her words yet soft are true & loud
Her promises clear, unbroken.
It's true she's not one for hugs
And she didn't spoil me with too much kissing
And yet hers is the name that tugs
Hers is the face I'm always missing.
Hehe, I hope your mother appreciates the poem! The gin and Gravol made me smile, I hope it makes her smile too.
Mother
Shub-Niggurath, black goat of the woods,
Mother to a thousand young,
Feeding her children on the souls of men,
While evil hymns are sung
Only a short one today, and Shub Niggurath is a monster in Lovecraft's stories (see here)
Ana - no problem, I know plenty enough about being busy :)
Thank you for sharing that poem, the second stanza is particularly lovely.
Greg - I hope that makes her smile as well, though I suspect she's more likely to be embarrassed.
Geez, I give you a chance to write something nice about yo momma and you're off about evil hymns and feeding children with souls. Yeesh :P
(I still totally enjoyed it, for the record)
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