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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=579766" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Through Mother's Eyes</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through Mother’s Eyes<br>© 2009 (Jim Grant Sularz)  </div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">With my first Soulful breath, <br>it was Mother’s eyes I saw.<br>She counted my tiny fingers and toes, <br>leaned gently, to kiss my brow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Announcements sent out right away, <br>my name chosen, so carefully. <br>The name, I think, a famous General’s claim, <br>was now the name, I’d call my own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My first birthday gift, <br>sweet cake smeared across my face and lips.<br>The first steps I took, outside Mother’s reach, <br>she sprinkled Fairy dust, to help me Fly! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Each year, with each measured line, <br>Mother made my mark along the door.<br>But I always tried to fudge a bit, <br>with tiptoes on the floor. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bumps and scrapes and crying soothed, <br>some ointment, she’d kiss away the pain.<br>Everyday, I'd come running back to Mother, <br>for hugs and kisses, anyway. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">First day of school, anxious cries at Home, <br>an endless day away from Mom.<br>“Draw me a “choo-choo” trains, ” she said, <br>and I drew them - all day long.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was through Mother’s eyes, that I glimpse the World, <br>both good and bad were explained.<br>But only good would make it past Mother’s eyes, <br>and the bad was chased fast away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Warm Summer days, Family picnics at the lake, <br>corn dogs and ice cream on a stick.<br>Cold snowy nights, white frosted windowpanes, <br>making snow Angels, with half-frozen fingertips.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">First school date, first Christmas dance, <br>where Cinderellas and Princes pranced. <br>But, the eyes I noticed now, <br>were no longer just my Mother’s.<br>	<br>Long years of school, drills and rules, <br>a Foreign shore, a Sweetheart missed.<br>And through it all, there was always Mother's voice, <br>calling me Home, from a War's abyss.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wedding bells rang out crystal clear, <br>those other eyes I noticed, were now adored.<br>The years flew by, our Children grew, <br>and Mother grew older, too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thanksgiving feasts around the table, <br>Children born, toasts, and loud celebrations, <br>Birthday gifts, songs, proud graduations, <br>and Mother’s bright eyes, began to dim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In her quiet manner, with a solemn look, <br>Mother smiled and held my hands.<br>“Upstairs, there’s a jar, behind my easy chair, <br>go there - when the time is right.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Death arrived, in wait for Mother, <br>with a chilled silence, on the darkest night.<br>Mother reached out for her last embrace, <br>then was wisked away, bathed in light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mother never washed off my marks along the door, <br>saved a flower from my first Christmas Dance.<br>Framed her collection of my “choo-choo” trains, <br>next to a portrait of General Grant.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grand Children loved to dress up at “Great Granny’s House, ''<br>where Cinderellas and Princes pranced. <br>And upstairs - Mother left me her Fairy dust, <br>to help them Fly!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jim+Sularz">Jim Sularz</a><div class=q>
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© 2009 (Jim Grant Sularz)  



With my first Soulful breath, 
it was Mother’s eyes I saw.
She counted my tiny fingers and toes, 
leaned gently, to kiss my brow.

Announcements sent out right away, 
my name chosen, so car..."></div>
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