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.
A writer trying to be an author
Memoirs, writing, publishing and more
On the Road Since 2010, RV & Caravaning Across USA & Europe With 12 Paws
Living on the Edge of the Wild
A man who served in Korea. A woman with a past. It's a new beginning for the end.
THE JOYS OF FULL-TIME RV LIFE - Random, moody, and quirky--but always straight from the heart.
Your mind is a garden, your thoughts are seeds. You can grow flowers or you can grow weeds.
Putting music to words, and words to pictures ~
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
A writer with no name 👽
I could use a good nap.
Trading in my combat boots
The Movement: Inspire, Empower & Transform
Wow, lots of truth in that poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love her lots – but when she stings…just hope I’m not that mom to my kids, lol
LikeLike
Yep. I know these feelings.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Only mothers can evoke them, lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful read as usual, i am familiar with these feelings all too well, i smiled while reading.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh those familial relationships!
LikeLike
Wow can I relate to this.
Wonderfully written
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
This was beautifully written, I can relate, I love your blog!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Jenn. Means a lot to me.
LikeLike
Once again, you’ve put beautifully into words what we might never say, especially to our mothers!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mine will not read this – so I guess I felt brave, lol.
LikeLiked by 1 person