Friday, April 30, 2010

Farewell to the 2010 Poetry Parade

And so this year's Poetry Parade comes to an end. If you've enjoyed reading a poem a day during National Poetry Month, I invite you to continue the fun by subscribing to Your Daily Poem, where you'll get some behind-the-scenes commentary along with each day's poem. You might also want to follow my occasional poetry-related posts at Twitter.

For now, though, here's the final poem of Wordwoman's Scintillating Springtime Parade of Poetry 2010; it's been a blast!

The Reading Mother
Strickland Gillilan

I had a Mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings--
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be--
I had a Mother who read to me.
See more here.

1 comment:

Joe Sottile said...

Good poems certainly make connections one way or the other with readers. I don't remember my mother reading to me. No photos of me with books. No boxes of kid books left behind. Every time I read about a famous author's childhood he or she seemed to have been bathed in books or the library was just down the block. But my mother was a great lady. Her father died in a fire. Years later, mom saved the life of a young boy who was on fire by rolling him in the wet morning grass. He had burns all over his body, but he lived. She answered his call for help.