James K - somewhere in Canada

My mother married after WWII and had five kids in the next eight years. When the fifth was born it became apparent that the marriage was falling apart. Divorce wasn't fashionable in small-town Canada in the fifties but my mother decided to end an abusive relationship and bring up five kids on her own. She held down two jobs for years and yet we never felt left out or neglected. She held her head up high and refused charity and welfare, but members of the community, both male and female found ways to help her survive. In this poem, which took me years to complete, I tried to convey the pride and the gratitude that I have for my mother.

My Mother's Eyes

Folks often say I have my mother's eyes,

But what is more; she taught me how to see,

And when a rainbow's wonder fills the skies

To her I owe the joy it brings to me.

And when an author's grasp of human grace

Leaves tears of wonder dancing down my face

They are my mother's tears, and hers the heart

That feels a painter's fears, a poet's art.

And when my child, if frightened by a storm,

Or fraught with fever, calls out in alarm,

I speak the words once whispered in my ear:

"Don't be afraid my son, for I am here."