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oh how
she loved blue the raucous jay and the poem about the little bird speaking to the small child oh how she loved blue the wildness of it look over yonder that meant everything the whole tarnation of it moving and living and creeping and stirring under the big blue possibility of the universal sky how she loved blue flowers especially bachelor buttons and bluebells and shy violets and status and morning glories she would stick her nose deep into any/every flower and smell smell smell coming up pollen coated like a bee's sticky feet how she loved blue fruit grapes and figs and plums the Italian prune plums I would prick each one with a straight pin and fill sterilized jars with them as she poured the steaming sweet syrup over them and we watched the clear jars fill up with blue-purple liquid oh so delicious later on becoming figgy pudding for Christmas or cools plums in a lunch time dish how she loved blue clothes many of them sewn on her '53 Singer blue cut offs in the summer blue denim skirts with gingham shirts (with a little paprika red and olive green thrown in for good measure) and various shades of blue silk blouses for Sunday choir her favorite treasures how she loved blue and at one time how she loved my Father who has my eyes the darkest of navy all of my Mother's children have his eyes blue I and T.J., navy Greg, turquoise blue I suspect at one time I know at one time how she loved my Father too but this isn't one those complicated poems with a side agenda but you can call my brothers and I blue because we all have blue eyes and so then it fits the theme of the poem again "how she loved blue" for she loved us each in her own way differently and complicated as Mothers can be we all miss her I miss her otherwise, I would not be writing about her my heart aches so much sometimes I have to stop so that I can finish this thought she died suddenly there was no real explanation sometimes things are just so blue. Copyright September 14, 2014 All Rights Reserved By This Author Meloo/Melissa A Howells Straight From Her Tilt-a-World All Dreams/Ideas/Prose/Poetry are the Legal Property of this Writer Thank You for Coming To This Site. Vote for this poem |
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