08-14-2013, 11:35 PM
She rises and stares out through
a condensation ridden window.
A single wipe of her hand
streaks the glass to a familiar view.
Another morning.
Another shift.
Her aching body battered and bruised
from life's wonderful way of
kicking you when your down,
falls into a high backed chair.
She sits by a coal fire
staring at sparks that float
randomly upwards
towards a blackened lum.
Three young boys look on
helpless.
Too soon for them life's battles.
Their years belie a world that has
taught them that birthdays
come without celebration.
There is no father Xmas.
There is no father.
Their love for this woman
who would do anything
to see them survive
is unquestionable.
Like some protective lioness
she smiles at their tiny faces.
Huddled round for warmth.
They share a bond that
only they can understand.
How tough her life has been
The sacrifices
The long hours
The endless round of jobs.
The loneliness
She glances across a dim
candlelit room
No bright tomorrow here,
the electricity was gone
a long time ago but not her pride
She moves knowingly towards empty
cupboards.
Foraging amongst what is left.
Scavenging together a meagre offering.
She'll go without, like she has done
so many times before.
Her pride gather round.
A silent acknowledgement bear's
witness to what's on offer
They gratefully devour a feast
of bread an jam
They are hungry but wise enough
to remain silent.
No need to add to her endless list
of pressures.
She hugs them in turn.
A special hug
A hug that only mother gives
A hug that says
"Be good for mum boys I'll be back soon"
She turns glancing only
for a moment
A door closes
A lock turns
A quiet resignation fills the air
They love this woman
They are five ,seven and eight years old
They are on their own.
a condensation ridden window.
A single wipe of her hand
streaks the glass to a familiar view.
Another morning.
Another shift.
Her aching body battered and bruised
from life's wonderful way of
kicking you when your down,
falls into a high backed chair.
She sits by a coal fire
staring at sparks that float
randomly upwards
towards a blackened lum.
Three young boys look on
helpless.
Too soon for them life's battles.
Their years belie a world that has
taught them that birthdays
come without celebration.
There is no father Xmas.
There is no father.
Their love for this woman
who would do anything
to see them survive
is unquestionable.
Like some protective lioness
she smiles at their tiny faces.
Huddled round for warmth.
They share a bond that
only they can understand.
How tough her life has been
The sacrifices
The long hours
The endless round of jobs.
The loneliness
She glances across a dim
candlelit room
No bright tomorrow here,
the electricity was gone
a long time ago but not her pride
She moves knowingly towards empty
cupboards.
Foraging amongst what is left.
Scavenging together a meagre offering.
She'll go without, like she has done
so many times before.
Her pride gather round.
A silent acknowledgement bear's
witness to what's on offer
They gratefully devour a feast
of bread an jam
They are hungry but wise enough
to remain silent.
No need to add to her endless list
of pressures.
She hugs them in turn.
A special hug
A hug that only mother gives
A hug that says
"Be good for mum boys I'll be back soon"
She turns glancing only
for a moment
A door closes
A lock turns
A quiet resignation fills the air
They love this woman
They are five ,seven and eight years old
They are on their own.
