Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

Joyce Marion Moore

 Joyce Moore 

A child of the thirties

Derbyshire born

Unconditional love

Smiles, soft and warm

Loved by her brothers

Numbering four

To school she would send me

With a kiss through the door

I remember her freedom

As we left the nest

The new job she relished

Doing her best

But the tears that she shed

As I got my own place

Were as nothing to the rivers

That ran down my face

As my dearest, my Mother

Crossed over at last

And I’m scared that the memories

Will fade like the past

I try and I try to recall her sweet smile

But the illness that took her

Indiscriminate and vile

Intrudes on my thoughts

And its hard for a while

But with patience that image recedes from my brain

And there, in the light, stands my Mother again.

Copyright Kev Moore 2008

I wanted to write some words about my Mother, and well, out this came.

January 11, 2008 Posted by | death, health, life, love, Parents and Children, personal, poetry, random, women, writing | , , , , , | 6 Comments