Sonnet: My Mother in Old-age

Octogenarian now, how well she writes,
My mother to me still, in her own hand!
The Scriptures, good advice, how well she cites!
Her old-aged pen serves like a fairy’s wand!

She has been doing thus for years and years;
Though old-aged, by sheer will-power she lives;
Tho’ slightly deaf and blocked by wax, her ears;
Her eyes see well! What advice she just gives!

Her only plea to me was to write back;
I used to visit her often, not now;
Of keeping children good, she had the knack;
She is my mother great who has such love.

God give her health of body, mind, I pray;
Indeed, she is my mother sweet, I say.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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