A family gathering – Mother’s ninety-fifth.
The spirit stronger than the flesh
and yet she blew out every candle – one puff.
The cake, she observed, clearly not home-made
but passable.
Quite a character she was.
At her behest, bought her the latest camera –
tried to teach her how to use it.
“Too technical for me,” she quipped.
“May I suggest you lot take the photos?”
So we obliged – displayed them as a slide-show
on our forty-two inch plasma.
Mother seemed un-phased by this modern innovation.
Took it all in her stride, downed her third glass of sherry,
great grandson on her knee.
Truly amazing this reality TV,” she said,
eyes glued to the screen, admiring every shot.
“Except … hold my glass a minute.
It seems I need my specs.
Yes, there she is, over by the window.
Who is that lady in red?
She looks somewhat familiar.”
“Why, that’s you, Mum,” I said.
“I’m not senile, yet!” she snapped.
“No, I mean the woman to my left, looking in.”
I couldn’t see a thing except a vague reflection
so I laughed, made light of it. Remarked my eyesight
not as keen as hers. One week later she passed away
died quietly in her sleep, a smile still on her lips
I remembered as a child meant, ‘Mother’s always right.’
“Amen,” I whispered … to the lady in red.
Comments
Bradene | October 21, 2008 - 12:25
Oh I've read this before somewhere? It's a fantastic one, I remember thinking so the last time I read it. Love Val x
Silver Spun Sand | October 21, 2008 - 15:40
Thanks Val. I probably posted it at some stage 'on the other side' so to speak.
Glad you enjoyed it. The lady in question was my mother-in-law. Quite a character she was, bless her:-)
Love, Tina xx
TraceyRoseHorse | October 21, 2008 - 18:48
Wow, what an awesome story. It give me the chills.
blackjack-davey | October 21, 2008 - 19:38
I don't see how this qualifies as a poem. If you take out the line breaks it's -- prose. Where's the vital tingle? The lighting of the blue touch paper? Is the woman in red also the ghost that appears in Tom Selleck's (always watchable) Three Men and a Baby?
Silver Spun Sand | October 21, 2008 - 20:19
Thank you Tracey, both for reading and taking the trouble to comment so positively. Very much appreciated.
Tina:-)
tamara | October 21, 2008 - 22:58
What a fantastic poem!It's so nice to just read work and feel it running through my veins,it stays in my thoughts and I imagine myself as a "Fly on the wall"in your poems so to speak Tina when I read your work.
The anticipation of what you are going to pull out of the hat next put's me on a high!Brill.x
Silver Spun Sand | October 22, 2008 - 07:56
Lynne - you have put a big smile on my face this morning and for that I thank you:-)
I must admit, I often think that of your work and I also find myself wondering what you will pull out of the bag next time.
Have a sunny day and don't work too hard.
Tina x
Nathan Bednarek | October 22, 2008 - 20:44
As always, you show the symptoms of a serious disease called 'uniqueness' ;-p Usually the theme of your work is very unique, if not then it's the way you write that is unique. Here, it's both.
This is a well deserved cherry dear Tina and these lines are the reason why:
'Mother seemed un-phased by this modern innovation.
Took it all in her stride, downed her third glass of sherry,
great grandson on her knee.'
and
'I remembered as a child meant, ‘Mother’s always right.’
“Amen,” I whispered … to the lady in red.'
The whole poem is great, but these lines really did it for me. The way you capture the things you see or think about is what's so great about your poetry- the way you capture 'every shot.'
Wonderful work.
Love, Nathan.
Silver Spun Sand | October 23, 2008 - 13:03
Nathan, thank you for, as usual, reading my stuff so carefully. You always see right through to the heart of things.
So glad you liked it and that you took the trouble to tell me in such a nice way:-)
Love, Tina.
MistakenMagic | October 24, 2008 - 16:17
'“Except … hold my glass a minute.
It seems I need my specs.
Yes, there she is, over by the window.
Who is that lady in red?
She looks somewhat familiar.”
“Why, that’s you, Mum,” I said.
“I’m not senile, yet!” she snapped.'
This part made me laugh - I can see what you mean by 'quite the character'. It reminded me of a lot of my elderly relatives - the ones who refuse to get hearing aids and insist that they're not deaf (in a very loud voice). A beautiful poem!
Magic x