THE PRICE OF MOTHERHOOD
(For all the mums who wait...)
Winter’s bitter gloom came softly creeping across the land,
engaging and defeating the sun’s last feeble strand,
the cold grey mist upon the mountain came slowly seeping down
encompassing and enshrouding the little country town.
Once again the mother’s face peered from the kitchen door,
but once again there was no trace of the child she waited for,
and as the shadows lengthened and the wintry grimness grew,
the worried mother thought those thoughts that only mothers do.
In her mind she traced the path that led from school to home
as she fretted for her only son who now trod that path alone;
her thoughts flew to the muddy stream she knew he had to cross,
as she stifled a cry of anguish at the impossible thought of his loss.
Now the clock upon the wall seemed merciless in its ticking
as its old and blackened hands persisted in cruelly clicking,
for even as she looked, the minutes too swiftly flew,
and where her son was one hour late, now he was late by two!
Then as mothers will and for reasons I can’t explain,
she tried to ease her worried mind by busying herself again:
pots upon the stove were stirred, clean floors were thoroughly swept,
then all these things were done again, as her vigil there she kept.
Until at last she heard the sound she had desperately waited for
as a disheveled little ginger head peered around the kitchen door,
and there within his grubby hands was clasped his greatest prize:
a jam tin, where half a dozen tadpoles, lay gasping with bulging eyes!
Now it is more than sixty years since this story first took place,
More than half a century since I saw the tears bedew her face
and though I was but a little boy I somehow understood:
her tears were the price a woman pays for the joys of motherhood
and though I caused her many more nights of waiting fearfully -
I never forgot the night I saw my mother cry for me.
Vic Jefferies
THE PRICE OF MOTHERHOOD
- Cropduster
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Re: THE PRICE OF MOTHERHOOD
Wow, Vic. You took me straight back to a time when I decided to go to a friend's home after school, rather than going straight home as was expected.
When I finally arrived home, my mother was frantic, visibly shaking, angry...but all the while hugging me close to her in an embrace that seemed to last forever.
When I finally arrived home, my mother was frantic, visibly shaking, angry...but all the while hugging me close to her in an embrace that seemed to last forever.
- alongtimegone
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- Location: Brisbane
Re: THE PRICE OF MOTHERHOOD
Vic ... that's a good one ... as a poem and as a story that most of us can relate to. Hope you got a good clip over the ear after the hugs.
Wazza
Wazza
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Re: THE PRICE OF MOTHERHOOD
Well written Vic. Your poem brought back some very vivid images. My daughter, then two, disappeared while i was hanging washing and I thought she might have been in the dam. Happily, after maybe half an hour, she came toddling through the paddock in her little red track suit with duck on the front - i can still see it. I've never been so scared in my life.
Heather![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_e_smile.gif)
Heather
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_e_smile.gif)
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Re: THE PRICE OF MOTHERHOOD
Thank you all for your kind comments and I am glad you enjoyed the poem.