Do you like it? Another poem about my sweet Momma's memories?

Momma's Outdoor Memories





The old clothes line


now sages to the ground.


the bag that held the pins


now holds a sparrows nest.





The flower beds always neat and trim,


now lay in disarray with weeds all within.


Flowers trying to peek around


the weeds that grow too high.





The pears off that old pear tree


she use to always can


They now lie rotting in the sun


with wasp and bees around.





The freezer that held the food she grew


is almost empty now.


Was filled so full with peas and corn


and peaches, beans and berries.





The wash room off the back of the house


Now full of junk and dirty


Once held her homemade jams and jellies,


canned tomatoes, pears and such.





The old water well that gave us fresh water


many years since filled in.


Now used as a table top in winter to feed the birds


and in summer to hold the flowers.





The front porch facing the road


you would think she would like to sit


but no she always choose that back porch swing


as her favorite place to be.





The old John Deere mower she finally had to give


to my brother


for she could not longer get on and off.


Her hips and knees just were too worn.





The next to go was her car


Like the last of her independence


We hated to see that time come


but it was her decision not ours.





I planted her a tomato plant


this year, like every year


since she has not been able


to do so for herself.





Now I go next door and take care of it.


Is so bittersweet to me.


It brings tears to my eyes


as I pick fruit and think of my sweet momma.





So many go memories of my mom outdoors


the place she loved so dearly


that's why it's so hard to go there now


that's why it be be hard not to.

Do you like it? Another poem about my sweet Momma's memories?
From sorrow comes new life. I love the image of the sparrow's nest made of the old clothes pin bag and even of the wasps and bees feeding on the fallen pears, pollinating the flowers and creating food for their young. The fruit still grows, the world turns, and you remember the good times and the bad. The poem is an illustration of life and its ambiguities.
Reply:I write with tears in my eyes, my friend. Tend your mother's things with love and as if she is there with you...because she is! Have a seat on the back porch swing, listen to the birds sing and save a place for momma, because she is with you.
Reply:It is very beautiful, and sad.


My Mommy %26amp; Grandmother, (I am over 40, ha!) both grew roses. They are both in heaven, now.


And, I can never walk by a rose of any kind without tearing up.





;-)





You should write a book of poetry!





Keep up the memories, for your children....
Reply:Yes, I love it....... you make me feel as if I know her personally. You were so blessed to have her as a Mom. !!! and she was so blessed to have you as a loving daughter.
Reply:Simply beautiful.
Reply:Yep, my mom too, exactly. Lots of memories in there.
Reply:Lots of memories here. More like a story to me. Congratulations on clean, up and away, poetry! Edit. I just noticed a remark that you should write a book. I already think you are. When I saw your title, I thought, she has many titles in this book. So if we are all wrong, maybe this is your start. Good luck! EDIT Just saw your notes. Sorry, that my words were not clear, if you were referring to the the word clean in my comment. I meant decent, not dirty and filthy language.I have no idea as to the type of poetry you like or write, other than this one.

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