“He went to sea in a thimble of poetry.”
Opening line in the poem Poet Warning, by Jim Harrison.
Wynken, Blyken and Nod
my childhood friends,
lived in the well-turned pages
of mother’s Child Craft Poetry Book.
So many friends who made me smile.
The Old Lady who lived in a shoe,
Miss Muffet sitting primly on her tuffet,
Old King Cole and Jack Sprat too.
We laughed about the crazy cow
who jumped over the moon.
I lived in those pages then,
where no one yelled at anyone.
Sitting on mother’s lap
I’d hug my yellow teddy-bear
smeared with mother’s lipstick,
so at least, it always smiled at me.
When mama took out that book
I knew she’d take me
to magical places.
And for those moments
her love for me was real and clear.
So calm, so comforting,
so warm, so fun, so motherly,
in those make-believe lands.
And here I am, decades later
near to being an octogenarian,
wondering why I write poetry.
I’d forgotten this side of her,
so many other memories crowding in.
I live by the words, “no regrets”
always have and always will.
So I am thankful to remember
this other side of who she was.
NAPOWRIMO Day 12. Prompt: Write a poem that recounts a memory of a beloved relative and something they did that echoes through your thoughts today.
Image from an illustration in the book, which I still have. Published in 1947, the year I was born.
lillian the home poet 