A bunch of flowers sitting on the table; roses and chrysanthemums.
A symbol of love from one woman to another, daughter to mother.
A reminder that her sacrifices are not forgotten or taken for granted;
overtime worked, money to help her daughters get what they wanted.
She tried to give them what she lacked; hugs, kisses-saying ‘I love you,’
and ‘Follow your dreams, don’t settle for second best. You are worth it.’
This woman, small in stature, always alert and ready for battle;
don’t mess with her weans, if you value your life-she takes no prisoners.
Her mistakes are many- lovers and two husbands later, she’s nobody’s fool,
except when she hears a sob story from one of her girls- ‘Help’ they shout,
and she runs , straight to the rescue. That abusive partner-he’s gone-
yes, a coward at heart, leaving finger marks on her daughter.
The sleepless nights, not knowing where they were-alcohol and drugs
make fools of us all, one way or another. Yet through this sorry episode,
she loved them from a distance; too close and she might lose them,
with a hasty word. She often wonders how they survived their folly.
She looks at the flowers again, admiring the beauty of the red rose,
remembering the Burns classic, amazed that these girls she raised
are still around her. She considers herself blessed; yes God
has indeed blessed the work of her hands, and forgiven her follies.
