Tag Archives: poems

You Are My Mother

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

My three sisters and I usually go in together on group gifts for all of the major holidays.  This Mother’s Day was no exception.  We got Mom a new beach cart – sweet, right?

The deal is that we also send her our own cards.  However, I frequently forget to mail mine.  This Mother’s Day was no exception.  To make up for it, I wrote my mother a song, sung to the tune of “You Are My Sunshine,” originally recorded in 1939 by the Pine Ridge Boys from Atlanta, with a copyright 1940 by Peer International Corporation, words and music by Jimmie Davis and Charles Mitchell.  P.S.  I’m going to butcher all of that right now.

You Are My Mother by Stacy Swiger

The other night, mom, as I lay (not) sleeping
I dreamt I mailed your Mother’s Day card
But when I awoke, Mom, it was still on the counter
So I hung my head and I cried
 
You are my mother, my only mother
You make me happy (well, most the time)
You’ll never know Mom, how much I love you
Because I forgot to mail your lovely card
 
I’ll always love you, because you’re my mom,
You grew me in your baby oven
You changed my diapers, you kissed my boo-boos
You were the first to give me unconditional love(n)
 
You are my mother, my only mother
You make me happy (well, most the time)
You’ll never know Mom, how much I love you
Because I forgot to mail your mediocre card
 
You taught me so much, like “please” and “thank you”
You taught me how to write my name
You taught me how to cook, and bake, and sew things
You showed me that having kids can drive a mom insane
 
You are my mother, my only mother
You make me happy (well, most the time)
You’ll never know Mom, how much I love you
Because I forgot to mail your bush-league card
 
You survived my teen years, then planned my wedding
You watched my kids when I went back to work
I am so sorry for the times I hurt you,
When I was selfish, annoying, or a jerk
 
You are my mother, my only mother
You make me happy (well, most the time)
I’m telling you now Mom, how much I love you
Oh, I’m so happy I never mailed that effing card!
 

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, MOM!

 
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Poems of Procrastination

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

In homage to those like Keats, Wordsworth and Shelley (and because my kids are all out of my house and off to the first day of school and I’m kind of bored and putting off my workout and other various and sundry chores), I have decided to write a poem.

“An Ode to Summer”
by Stacy Swiger
 
O! glorious season of unencumbered trotters and limbs – 
How my soul thunders at your sweet smells and irradiated hours.
Why, thou art bursting with vivid comestibles and waterlogged reverie!
The waning of your days is forever married with my ebbing enthuse.
What splendor dreamt by deities in sculpting your essence.

Well, that didn’t take nearly long enough, despite the constant thesaurus look-ups.  Maybe I’ll go a little less formal with a haiku.

“A Haiku Poem About Summer”
by Stacy Swiger
 
Bare… feet, legs, iCal
Summer is wet, bright and free.
Fall is too leafy.
*******
 
“And Another”
by Stacy Swiger
 
Haiku.  “Gesundheit”
Must be the freshly mowed grass.
Where’s the ice cream man?
*******

Kid A = 11th grade, Kid B = 8th grade, Kid C = 6th grade, Kid D = 2nd grade, and Kid E = Georgia pre-K. Mom = sad that summer is over.

I am always bummed that summer is essentially over for us when school starts, even though it is still August.  But I can say that I am happy to get back to writing more regularly.  And I know that the kids could certainly use some time apart from each other.

Just the other day, I listened from my office as I heard Kid E driving his siblings absolutely batty.  He went from one to the next, just nudging and annoying them with his, “Play with me” and “Get this for me”  and “Will someone wipe me?”  Finally I heard that he was left alone in the upstairs hallway, as everyone else had retreated to their rooms for some much-needed alone time.  Never to be discouraged, Kid E knocked on someone’s bedroom door.

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?”

(In his own, undisguised voice) “It is NOT me.  He he he he he he he he.”

Whatever.  It got them to open the door.

Happy First Day of School, my southern peeps.  And to those of you that still get to go to the beaches and the pools and sleep in for a few weeks longer, I hope you appreciate how good you’ve got it.  Enjoy your vivid comestibles and waterlogged reverie.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…