She sprinkles her commentary
with spikes of criticism
like a bee intent on finding honey
but stinging instead
strikes hard at the heart of the matter
manages to counter my aspirations
all attempts to swat away her words
are weak – she is my mother
and my sentiments are clouded
her jabs bite, inflame
and despite my apparent maturity
reduce me to childish panic.
Reflections on Canadian Culture From Below the Border
the side of me most people never see
Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry
How I see the world
beauty is subversive in the distemper of these times
Blue Fences
Wake Up!
No Camera Needed
Protection and Education for Wild Horses
A journal dedicated to celebrating the beauty of birds
Candid cultural comments from the Isles of Wonder
Sea, sand and space, And all Calliope's grace...
photography, poetry and ponderings of life
Sharing Poetry and Hugs
Our small family living in a 5th wheel following Dads work as a rock fall technician... what could go wrong?
Wow, lots of truth in that poem.
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Love her lots – but when she stings…just hope I’m not that mom to my kids, lol
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Yep. I know these feelings.
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Only mothers can evoke them, lol
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Beautiful read as usual, i am familiar with these feelings all too well, i smiled while reading.
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Oh those familial relationships!
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Wow can I relate to this.
Wonderfully written
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Thank you.
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This was beautifully written, I can relate, I love your blog!
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Thanks so much, Jenn. Means a lot to me.
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Once again, you’ve put beautifully into words what we might never say, especially to our mothers!
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Mine will not read this – so I guess I felt brave, lol.
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