Sunday, April 12, 2015

A Birthday for Margaret

Even her freckles have freckles
That was a phrase someone said when I was young
I think of my mother
Whose skin is always happy
Like a summer day
Not overly freckled like a devoted sunbather
More like a sprinkling of fairy dust

She will smile and the world
Has to smile back
She seems to have enough love
To fill the room, the yard, the road, the town
And all for miles around
And then beyond that to the open fields
And to countries her feet have never touched

It’s the mark of an open heart
To frown at injustice
And just as quickly to apply the remedy
My mother has a remedy for every ill
She taught me home medicine before it was in style
She taught me tolerance and progressive thought
Before they were commonplaces in the land

She wears her age with ease
It seems her face just gets more beautiful
Her walk more steady
Her hands more sure
Her voice more lilting
All those experiences and memories
Don’t seem to crowd her at all

Maybe it’s her energy
Like lighting in the springtime
She can jump to a topic or activity
What would you like for dinner
Let me read you this article
Do you need a sweater
We should visit our old friend

People think ninety is a ripe age
But Mom hasn’t ripened yet
She’s like a magical tree
Still bearing fruit
That’s ever-young
And the twinkle in her eye
Is well-earned

She wears her beauty naturally
Like her hair never colored
Her eyes free of makeup
She never shows an ordinary vanity
Yet when she looks in the mirror I’m sure she sees
The Fairy Queen herself
Looking back.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This poem uncannily describes my mother as clearly as yours, inspiring ahead of her time and touching so many, reaching lands they have not yet visited...