Beguiled
You home for a holiday,
belly gorged on favorites,
soft couch cradling like a mother's arms. . .
since you grew up,
shed child skin,
thin facial hair shading jaw,
even when days were tough,
rough making it alone,
you came home on holidays.
Your laughter blending with the chatter,
clatter of dishes, pots, pans,
sisters catching up,
nieces, nephews climbing up
to sit on lap, lie on shoulder.
All got older;
drill sergeant time barking commands,
remands to custody
faces more precious than treasure.
Measure joy?
not mother love for little boy;
let us go on forever
counting jokes and smiles,
beguiled.
Copyright, Faye Lanham Gibson
June 28, 2017
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2017
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