Thursday, March 31, 2016

A MOTHER’S RELIGION




Screwed up eyes see the dotty scan on screen

And then wonder - what matters the twist of a pigment,

within the soulful, maternal dragnet?

Created then carried and cuddled -


 this fresh, enlightened skin is dutifully, but tenderly,





enfolded within the love of its elder.


Mum’s unbridled enjoyment affirms the lifeboat


that will tug them both through

comedic displays of generational wellies



with a raft of squashed nose for poses


to the melancholy uncertainty of current worries.

A Mother’s eyes miss nothing and pray for everything -


She kisses the cheek of hope and glory 

and ponders the uncertain circle -

After all, riding on Mummy’s bump can be so much fun.


You are and I am and that is a Mother’s patent miracle.




Images : Sheryl Fish: Oobaloos Photography
Poetry : Nick Masters : Sheryl's daddy

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