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Literature Text
On a snowy moonlit hill
asleep in winter's silent chill
my mother's grave, it beckoned still
her heart a vase my flowers fill.
A laugh and treble tones arose
three proper women in old clothes
my mother speaking perfect prose
her smiling steamy tea-spout flows.
Startled, I hid behind a stone
lost in thought but not alone
unbelieving truth was shown
drifting figures without bone.
"Goodness, Ms. Ferrywinkle!
Johnny has a date!"
Stirring lemons, glasses tinkle,
"Dear, you've lost some weight!"
"Tuesdays work the best for me!"
"Where do our best days go?"
At last they faded from my view
"I miss my children so!"
I came upon the hollowed ground
no traces left no voices found
I placed the flowers without sound
whispered a prayer and turned around.
I thought about her life of storms
she died the day that I was born
I grinned because in death transformed
her solace found in ghostly form.
asleep in winter's silent chill
my mother's grave, it beckoned still
her heart a vase my flowers fill.
A laugh and treble tones arose
three proper women in old clothes
my mother speaking perfect prose
her smiling steamy tea-spout flows.
Startled, I hid behind a stone
lost in thought but not alone
unbelieving truth was shown
drifting figures without bone.
"Goodness, Ms. Ferrywinkle!
Johnny has a date!"
Stirring lemons, glasses tinkle,
"Dear, you've lost some weight!"
"Tuesdays work the best for me!"
"Where do our best days go?"
At last they faded from my view
"I miss my children so!"
I came upon the hollowed ground
no traces left no voices found
I placed the flowers without sound
whispered a prayer and turned around.
I thought about her life of storms
she died the day that I was born
I grinned because in death transformed
her solace found in ghostly form.
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Featured in Groups
Inspired by tea party at the graveyard by snuapril01, a poem for the contest Summer Collaborations Contest for the group love-new-artists. What a wonderful original idea... writing for this illustration was pure joy.
The story:"A boy misses his deceased mother during one winter holiday, and feels compelled to visit her grave. After arriving, he is startled by his mother's ghost floating about with several other women dressed in very old clothing, joyfully gabbing and enjoying a cup of tea. Frightened, the boy hides and cautiously observes them. After a time they fade into the gently falling snow, and the boy leaves the scene feeling a bit unnerved but happy that his mother has found companionship and peace in the afterlife."
The illustrator provided a good solid narrative which I expanded on only slightly
Edit: tweaked the last line a bit for better flow.
The story:"A boy misses his deceased mother during one winter holiday, and feels compelled to visit her grave. After arriving, he is startled by his mother's ghost floating about with several other women dressed in very old clothing, joyfully gabbing and enjoying a cup of tea. Frightened, the boy hides and cautiously observes them. After a time they fade into the gently falling snow, and the boy leaves the scene feeling a bit unnerved but happy that his mother has found companionship and peace in the afterlife."
The illustrator provided a good solid narrative which I expanded on only slightly
Edit: tweaked the last line a bit for better flow.
© 2015 - 2024 C1nderellaMan
Comments26
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I really love this, the ryming is supurb and it flows like a gentle stream. I love the idea behind this that the ladies continue in their afterlife to fawn over their children.