Free Cee This Was Written Two Days Before My Mom Died In Jan So I Hope You Will Indulge Me
I KNOW SHE WOULD HAVE LOVED THIS LOVE SONG
As she slowly slips away I say
Now every love song I ever hear seems written especially for her and i
Not a lover bared, bedded or wedded
Nor those who shed their clothing as a sign of love and devotion
Hers was understood
Her brand of love is called “motherhood”
Not a love like I had for that young sixteen year old blonde I unburied in Brooklyn
The one whose shimmer reflected off the shiny steel beams of the Verrazano Bridge
Bathing Staten Island in a satiny soft sunshine
And sprinkling the news that the prettiest part of Brooklyn was now all mine
No not that kind of love
Nor the blonde thirty years later who stole the heart Brooklyn so long ago had broken
Whose words were spoken nakedly from behind a silken veil
And made what might have been the final time
feel like the first time I ever fell in love
No not that kind of love
Not the kind that came with every congratulatory conquest and every lamentable loss
For she was always there
Through the storm clouds and through the thunder
Through the heartache that results from a young man’s lust and mistrust which sets him asunder
Yet there was always a patiently waiting cradle
Wherein I would voice a sincere supplication for support
A structure strong enough to buttress another beauty’s betrayal and stiffen my spine when loss left me stooped over and lame
That kind of love goes by only one singular name
Beyond sacred, beyond spectacular, beyond the most sacrosanct kind of good
Such a sanctified love is named “motherhood”
And mine was always right there where a mother belongs
So that explains why now I hear her name in the center of all softly sung love songs
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE.....~free cee!~
P.S. Go ahead Mom, my angel, my sweet, fear not to fly
AND FLEW DID SHE WITH GRACE I'M SURE
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