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Mom: The Azalea

 

Like Mom they are always there always.

An azalea like mom is always with you.

No matter what  the cold bitter days,

The happy joyous days the melancholy Dismays.

 

The Azalea like Mom conquers and lasts.

Endures personal disappointments.

Rejoices in smiles and hugs in your achievements

Mom The Azalea always comes back in Spring’s presence.

 

She blooms in cheer brightening life’s drear.

She withers in endless rains but as flowers fade

Her summer’s green cheer grooms recalls  summer shade

As fall days shorten and leaves fall in colorful cascade.

 

As child turns to adult and drifts away from Mom The Azalea

Building life of the unknown, the unexpected, the joyous day

The crushing losses, the proud triumphs, the mistakes along way,

Mom The Azalea in winter green and loving Mother’s Day softens what be May

 

The Azalea resplendent in sun and rain this time of year

Reminds you of your mom, the clean-up-your-room Mom.

The fashion mom always enduring unfortunte fashion whims

The always-accepting-coping-solution mom ready with the elizir.

 

Sweeping through your life even through her life’s essence

No longer manifests, Mom, like The Azalea is omnipresent

There in bloom lifting life’s gloom, her wise advice  echoing

Calming your mind anxiety, with you like God to rely in deciding.

 

From a mother’s first sight of you being born to your grief

When her presence departed but now is your companion still

A voice of past and present in future with you with steadfast belief

In you, your promise, ability, courage dispensing wisdom and will.

 

As I write this about my mother, from her cross “Johnny Bailey!”

Or my wife’s mother’s, “Oh dear God, Janet” when Janet misbehaved

Their wisdoms, homilies, and dedication to their children who are old

Is forever there to draw new courage, new wisdom untold.

 

Mothers are always remembered even when we are unable to go to

The Old Kittle House for a Mother’s Luncheon today in that old white table cloth dining room

Overlooking the immense green on a sunny day.

With Dad in white shirt and tie, children in suits and dresses

This stanza does not rhyme because The Mom The Azalea

Influences, helps, always she loves us.

 

Thanks Mom. You were my first teacher. My first love. I so admired you

Never knew how much until now.

You’re not gone. You are not a memory. You are a presence in my life always