Then & Now
Barricaded, I breathe deeply
as questions continue,
their bodies slide down
wooden expanse as if shot,
find slit at bottom of door,
implore to be let in;
writhe, feet beat floor
as reprieve is not granted.
Before me, resplendent,
an array of old friends:
perfume, hair clips,
powdery pinks, delicate lace, bows,
strand or two of bobbles and bits
I caress as old friends, perhaps lovers.
I emerge, their arms and limbs draped
over chaise and lounge,
eyes blink with sleep and surprise
as they whisper, "Mother"?
and I answer with a smile,
tie apron about my front,
clean fish, roll dough,
hang laundry...
little ones convinced
forever more this day
an Angel descended.
by Margaret Bednar, May 12, 2021
Times don't really change that much - I think most mothers will understand this poem. Linked with "Poets & Storytellers United - Weekly Scribblings #69 - The Hunt". Am I the only mother who has locked the master bathroom door and looked longingly at makeup and such? It's been a while since I've felt "desperate" (LOL), but I remember when I had 5 children 10 years and under ... !! Number six came along five years later.
I ordered an ephemera package of Paris/France goodies - vintage postcards, magazines, book pages, lace - I will use it in journals I am making. This is one postcard that came in the pack. Isn't it lovely? You can find such treasures (Vintage Book Art, Journals, and Paper Ephemra at : BookAndPaperArts.com and Instagram: book.and.paper.arts.
