The smell of lilacs in the air Reminds me of you, mom And the way you took my palm And said you would never leave me…. Then on that frightful morning so many years ago When you were taken from me, before it was your time to go…
These lilacs I picked for you today, Mom As I laid them upon your grave My heart is full of sorrows And worries for tomorrow Wondering how life is going to be without you, Mom
I sit and rub my palm As it aches for your lingering touch As a child you held it tight, in protection Now my palm is empty as my heart…
+ JAnn is an award-winning poet. She has written poetry for all ages. Her poetry pertains mostly to love and life issues. She is in the process of writing her next poetry book and her memoir. She has experience in academic writing on all subjects which earn her great respect among her colleagues and professors.+ JAnn is a member of Double Decker Books where her books have been promoted successfully in the past by KayCee K. Wingfield. JAnn was voted poet of the year for 2015 & 2016 by Double Decker Books. JAnn has self-published several poetry books in her past that are now out of publications. Anyone who wishes to read her past work must contact her directly via Social Media.+ JAnn is a strong supporter and advocate in her spare time for Autism Awareness for her disabled son. She is a lover of the 80’s music scene and spends her time listening to random songs from her childhood while she writes. She is also a yogi. She finds comfort in meditating to release the anxiety and daily stress. She is a major coffee drinker and she believes the power of her pen and paper should not be tampered with.
Mom. You always care for me so much with warmth of your love you are so caring Mom, you always live in my heartbeats with lights of spiritualism you are so glaring Mom, knowledge of humanity and wisdom I learn
Happy Mother’s day… Read it slowww-lyy, Here I am loneee-lyy, Writing a song for my mother Mom. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Beautiful days, dull sunrays, The time is fleeting like tides and waves. Far from home, living alone, Writing a
Read it slowww-lyy, Here I am loneee-lyy, Writing a song for my mother Mom. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Beautiful days, dull sunrays, The time is fleeting like tides and waves. Far from home, living alone, writing a song for my
Mom’s the word…A BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE She was the eighth child out of the ten born to the high-profile session judge couple; She spent her childhood amidst her siblings in a traditional orthodox environment with an aristocrat touch in her lifestyle.