Missing My Mother

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  • Loss

    Missing My Mother

    Her radiant, red hair, rippling in the breeze,
    Her smile shining like the sun,
    Her eyes sparkling like the stars,
    Her attitude beaming with originality,
    My Mother is missed
    In the day,
    In the night,
    In my dreams,
    While i fight
    Through all the pain of losing her.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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