Stormy night again dear mother
Soft hands caress my cheek.
Her voice lulls me to sleep,
As a little white dog licks my feet.
The rain patters and drips,
lightning struck like shattered glass.
The fire dances in the chimney place,
Its red brick walls gated with brass.
The chair rocks forward,
And the chair rocks back:
Its brittle arms too small,
And its legs too long.
I smile and tears run from my eyes,
As the phonograph skips a beat.
The warmth and comfort who seeks winter's hearth,
Benny Goodman on repeat.
Light flickers through the heavy drapes,
The chair rocks back and forth,
Mother said with a smile, "fear not my child,"
Her eyes like stars up north.
As the storm rages on,
Her angelic soul guides me for a time.
My mind flutters under the bedsheets
What lurks at nighttime?
"Fear not, I will always be with you,"
Her heart a piece of gold.
A gem out of place in this old basement suit,
Mother's words consoled.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Poems
PoetryA book a poems from various styles and subjects. Some, a look into the lives of those other than human. Others, a journey to the past.
