"My MaDonna" & "Beyond the Bend" (Note from Mother to Daughter/Daughter to Mother)
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"My Mother"


My Mother who is so very dear to me,
Has wrote a book of poems for us to see;
It mentions the hurt that's buried within,
Stories of Love, Compassion, Loneliness and Sin.

My Mom; A precious living being,
A heart full of goodness and love;
With so many memories lingering beneath,
Of shadows and scars--
and Gods Love from Above.

As I sit here thinking back over the years,
I realize all the hardships, the heartaches
And mostly the tears;
That seem to hide in crevices deep burning hurts,
And desires that Mother beared and telling
of thoughts she shared;
To God--To those she loved so dear.

It makes my heart burn and ache
with love and understanding of the
cross my Mother bore;
I know the things she gave up,
I remember the old clothes she wore.

I look back on my childhood life
and I know Mother was a good wife;
I remember seldom did Mom wear a grin,
Faithful was she 'till the end.

She made our home a happy place,
She gave us LOVE;
She taught us of God and made us say Grace.
She gave us her time--never shoved us aside;
She kissed away our hurts and
shared our thoughts,
She stayed by our sides.

She told us she would never leave,
Altho' her soul was very grieved;
I've seen her go away and hide,
Because of the hurt that's burned inside.

So, as I read the poems she wrote,
My heart is moved with Love,
Respect, Pride and much Hope;
For this Woman I know, My Friend;
Whom God Blessed with me;
My Mother--My MaDonna.
What an Honor to be the Daughter
of such a Woman,
Whom God gave to me
Oct. 17, 1973

"Beyond The Bend"


I could not see beyond the bend
Where Mother left to join her friend
with tear dimmed eyes, I searched
hoping and longing, Oh How It Hurt!

Her journey was quick and so complete
Then I caught a glimpse of the Masters Feet
Where Mother was kneeling reverently bowed
Giving thanks unto Him,
For promises vowed.

There was no fear upon her face,
She had found Jesus, waiting at the gate.
He led her into the promised land;
Through streets of Gold,
Her home he planned.

No more sorrow, no more shame,
no more heartache, no more pain.
Her journey was over, down below;
I said goodbye and turned to go.

Mother followed Him around the bend
My heart was happy,
He led her in.

March 1993

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