Mother’s Quilted Blanket

I stood by the beacon of an old lighthouse
With raging memories I couldn't even douse
A quilted blanket made by my mother's hands
Fluttering in the wind in some faraway lands.
Childhood cried within me amidst rocky shores
Am I the same boy hidden behind closed doors?
But now life's responsibilities has taken its toll
For better or worse, inscribed upon an aging scroll.
Where is an overwhelming love.I truly miss?
Embracing my flaws with a hug and her kiss
For I miss you dearly, my blooming red rose
The rarest of diamonds, a picture I keep close.
I'm part of you, you are part of Heaven
The bread I bake needs your constant leaven
I rise and fall, keeping your stunning devotion
Love of God and country, gracing all my emotion.
Mother: you sculpted life, taught me to live
Besides myself, none I can truly to you give
I give my dreams and tears, even my hopes
But my wings are heavy climbing life's slopes.
Dawns grieve with my textured eternity
Trials and tribulations, alone in calamity
I can't find sleep nor sail to a dreamland
So, I stand by the beacon upon shifting sand.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem