Mothers earth

This is my mother’s earth

Except it is not

This is the earth where she was planted nurtured raised and grew

This is the earth where she blossomed

Threw out a shoot watched it flower

And that was me

This is my mother’s earth

Where she has been tried and tested

Through all seasons she has been weathered

Battered and worn

This is my mother’s earth

But not the one she knew

The one of hand me downs and make do and mend

Carry on regardless of all other ends

This is my mothers earth where she once walked

The catwalk in evening gowns and dresses

Of twin tubs and rubber gloves

Of home-made steak and kidney pudding

Of coal fires

Single glazing

Buses with conductors

And trains that ran on time

This is my mother’s earth

But not one she can easily recognise

With music and politics, she can’t fathom

Computers tablets and mobile phones

None of which she understands

This is my mother’s earth

To which one day she will return

◄ Changing the guard

What light is this ►

Comments

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Kevin Tan

Sat 1st Oct 2022 17:18

Very welcome Martin. We are the Earth

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Martin Elder

Fri 30th Sep 2022 23:00

Thanks Kevin, I am glad you could relate to it.

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Kevin Tan

Thu 29th Sep 2022 15:42

Woke up with the song 'this is my father's world' in my head today. It is our parents' world. And our grandparents'. And ours. And our childrens. And we will never let it go. Ever. Thank you for your immense love.

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Martin Elder

Tue 27th Sep 2022 10:51

Thanks to Holden and Nigel for liking.

Thanks to John Stephen and Flyntland for your comments.
You are right Flyntland about the black and white minstrel show which of course would not be allowed now and jumble sales very often in the local church hall.
The minstrel show would have originally been shown in black and white. I can remember the aftermath of jumble sales with what was left strewn everywhere!

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John Botterill

Mon 26th Sep 2022 17:20

A fine poem full of fond reminiscences and love. Thank you for this, Martin. 😎

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Stephen Gospage

Mon 26th Sep 2022 17:01

A very loving lament packed with detail and nostalgia. Enjoyed this, Martin.

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Flyntland

Mon 26th Sep 2022 13:20

"of twin tubs and rubber gloves"

"buses with conducters"

It all sounds so familier - Black and White Minstrels and jumble sales need a mention somewhere though.

I do like the repetition of "This is my mothers earth"

thank you for this one

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