Tag Archives: mothers

mother of my mother – NaPoWriMo 2019 #13

mother of my mother

I remember her like it was
yesterday…my grandmother,
Mary Magdalene, mother of my
mother, confidant, and crone,
teller of family lore, of Russian
gypsies, garden remedies, secrets
of a distant past, in words I once
understood but can’t recall, days
of magic lived with her and my
grandpa, of lumpy cream of wheat,
whiskey-laced toddies, make-believe
reality, fleeting childhood memories
etched in my heart, ultimately part
of who I am…a bit of quirk, tree
whisperer, faerie friend, maker of
art, ‘twas she who taught me how
to see what others overlook, to
hear the voices in the breeze, to
see the acorns for the trees, to
feel the trembling earth with my
bare feet, my gypsy soul, always
home, no matter where or for
how long, clearly where I’m meant
to be, however short, however bitter
sweet, lessons to glean, new friends
to meet, my grandmother, all this,
taught me, leaving too soon, her
wisdom buried, silenced, from the
questions I have only thought of,
left unanswered now, but life goes on…
those sacred strands, connecting
those who came before, however
dim, inform this mother’s mother’s
child, who lives to tell her own
grandchildren tales of old, of
gypsies, whispering trees, of faerie
folk, we’ll listen to the breeze, dancing
on hallowed ground in our bare feet,
eat lumpy cream of wheat, conjure
our own realities of make-believe,
and come to know no matter where
we find ourselves, we’re always home,
never alone, embraced by kin, by
every gypsy soul who ever lived before
and who is living still in us and will again


NaPoWriMo 2019 #13 Prompt: write a poem about something mysterious and spooky! Your poem could be about something that is mysterious and spooky in a bad way (like a witch), or mysterious and spooky in a good way (possibly also like a witch? It depends on the witch, I guess!) Or just the everyday, mysterious, spooky quality of being alive.

Mothers and Daughters

barely a woman, girl-child, mother
she gazes into her daughter’s eyes
soul deep pools of ebon wonder
rockabye, sweet dream, lullabies

toddling sprite, she lives to hold her
barely a woman, girl-child, mother
exploring together, all life’s treasures
fierce protector, prone to hover

years soon pass like fleeting seconds
tears of joy, consuming anguish
barely a woman, girl-child, mother
left to tend an empty nest

bittersweet, the blooming season
wings now flexed, she yearns to fly
some return, but others wander
barely a woman, girl-child, mother


A Quatern for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on the collage above and Sylvia Plath’s beautiful verse.

Goddess Cry – Magnetic Poetry

goddess cry

I am not pleased by
the repulsive, delirious show
of mean, bitter men in suits
driven by lust as they
heave death and crush the
dreams of girls aching
to be mothers…NO…
my blood boils red hot


Magnetic Poetry – Original Kit

A Lifetime of Goodbyes


My twins, Jennifer and Mindy. ❤

This poem is dedicated to my twin daughters who share a birthday today. I will never forget the 24+ hours of labor, their premature birth, where I was, how I felt. And I shall cherish every moment that time has given me with them since. There have been many little goodbyes…that moment they took their first breath, when they hopped happily onto the bus without looking back on their first day of school, when they learned to drive, and when they moved out to start a life of their own. A mother’s heart never forgets those moments.

The moment of that first goodbye
a mother’s heart never forgets
her heart remembers where and when
she heard her newborn baby’s cry
the first goodbye of many yet
a mother’s heart with each year grows
for mothers know that in the end
goodbyes are temporary woes.  

kat ~ 21 April 2016

For Jane Dougherty Writes Poetry Challenge…this week the San San. The repeating terms I chose are Mother, Goodbye and Heart. (See a description of the San San below.)

The san san has some things in common with the tritina, including repetition and rhyme. In particular, the san san repeats, three times, each of three terms or images. The eight lines rhyme in the pattern a-b-c-a-b-d-c-d.




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