Shadow and Light poetry |
Mary’s Ghost Still Haunts My Dreams My mother Mary Was one-of-a-kind person A force of nature. When God created her He threw away the mold There was only one Mary Geneva Aller And she was my mother. She was of mixed-race Part of the legendary Lost tribe of the Cherokees Who ran away into the Ozark mountains Rather than go to Oklahoma During the Trail of Tears In the 1830s. Her people intermarrying With other escaped Indians Run away slave And Scot Irish settlers. Over time Becoming known As the Black Irish Or the Lost Tribe Of the Cherokees. There was a world According to Mary Who railed against idiots In charge. And did not tolerate fools Often said, “Never trust experts And what is a PhD? Nothing but BS Piled high and deep. When she died Of Alzheimer's She came to me In my dreams. Watching over me Giving me advice. To her favorite son The only one of her children Who really got her. And to this day Almost twenty years later I miss her. And tell her that When she visits me In my dreams. "Write from the Heart Poetry Contest" Have you forgotten to write your entry, the clock's ticking down only 10 days left. October Prompt: Write an Ode for the Ghost of someone in your history An Ode is a poem praising and glorifying a person, place or thing.{{/i}/b} |