PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

by Jeph Johnson

sometime or another
I think about my mother
and rest my troubles surely in her arms.
I think back to my childhood
when I knew she would
with a kiss and hug make all things calm.
I remember back
when I was a lad
how those eyes of hers
I wished would look away.
now it's those very eyes
I begin to realize
that still see in my soul this very day.
I also seem to find
-perhaps it's in my mind-
how Mom can know the workings of my thoughts;
appreciate my poems,
ignore my messy home;
love must be the catalyst when distraught!
I still, to this day,
love her a special way;
different than I loved her as a child.
I love her as a friend
to me until the end
and most of all when I start getting riled.
for it is only Mom
who can make me calm
by mentioning to me "this too shall pass"
if it weren't for allergies
I'd look up at the trees
and be lying sprawled out on the grass
but instead I've got a way
to calm my hectic day
an e-mail or a telephone call ring
I just wish the sun (son)
would shine over this one
instead of only shining in Palm Springs...