Where Silver Tears Do Rust
44,052 poems read
Momma's Makeup...2002
With soft blue lines and hints of rouge
My momma's face, it came alive
Her clear blue eyes and pale skin
I remember when I was five.
With curlers in her hair each night
The makeup washed away
"Time for sleep," my mama said
"It's time for rest, not play.
My mama's' face so pale, bare
No hint of makeup found
Her naked eyes and smile slept
When the sun, it did go down.
Lipstick of the brightest pink
And powder shades of blue and green
Adorned my mama's lonesome smile
When I was but thirteen.
In the wee hours of the morning
I could hear her cry out in despair
I would go then, to my mama
And wipe away her mascara tears.
For years, my momma's makeup
Was the mask that hid her pain
Some days it stained her pillow
Mixed with tears that fell like rain.
When the storm clouds lifted from her
And the sun shown bright in the California skies
My momma stood before her mirror
She painted bright, her lips and eyes.
Now grown and far from Momma
With five children of my own
I left behind mascara tears
And the California sun that brightly shown.
On March sixteenth, two thousand two
Too far from home, I could not hear,
As momma cried out one last time
Nor could I wipe away her mascara tears.
Our savior called my momma home.
No more pain or sorrow does she feel
Our Lord took from her the loneliness
That her makeup could not conceal.
I gathered momma's makeup
Before we laid her body down to rest
I knelt beside my momma
I prayed that her soul be blessed.
I spoke to her of how
She would be sorely missed
Then with a mascara tear upon my cheek
I gave Momma one last kiss.
My momma's face so pale, bare
No hint of makeup found
Her naked eyes and smile slept
When alas her sun went down.
She wanted to be beautiful
In her casket, all to see
I remembered momma's makeup
So the task was left to me.
With soft blue lines and hints of rouge
I painted momma's now cold skin
I painted her nails her favorite pink
Then I spoke a prayer again.
My daughter curled her grandma's bangs
That framed her lifeless face
While I made sure that momma's makeup
Was applied and all in place.
With soft blue lines and hints of rouge
Momma's face, it did not come alive
With lipstick of her favorite pink
Her smile, in vain, I tried to revive.
When alas we laid my momma down
For eternal, peaceful sleep
Momma's makeup adorned her pale skin
No more mascara tears to weep.
Lipstick of the brightest pink
And powder shades of blue on blue
Adorned my Momma's peaceful rest
When I was but forty two.
With curls in her bangs that night
And makeup placed to stay
My Momma earned her time for rest
"Lord keep my Momma safe.", I pray...*
L.A.McNabb
Friday, 29 March, 2002
Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved
Written for my mother, Janet Edna Bishop-McNabb-Bradbury. Born 18 May, 1939. Called home on 16 March, 2002. *
I love you Momma and for you, I write...*
Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved
My momma's face, it came alive
Her clear blue eyes and pale skin
I remember when I was five.
With curlers in her hair each night
The makeup washed away
"Time for sleep," my mama said
"It's time for rest, not play.
My mama's' face so pale, bare
No hint of makeup found
Her naked eyes and smile slept
When the sun, it did go down.
Lipstick of the brightest pink
And powder shades of blue and green
Adorned my mama's lonesome smile
When I was but thirteen.
In the wee hours of the morning
I could hear her cry out in despair
I would go then, to my mama
And wipe away her mascara tears.
For years, my momma's makeup
Was the mask that hid her pain
Some days it stained her pillow
Mixed with tears that fell like rain.
When the storm clouds lifted from her
And the sun shown bright in the California skies
My momma stood before her mirror
She painted bright, her lips and eyes.
Now grown and far from Momma
With five children of my own
I left behind mascara tears
And the California sun that brightly shown.
On March sixteenth, two thousand two
Too far from home, I could not hear,
As momma cried out one last time
Nor could I wipe away her mascara tears.
Our savior called my momma home.
No more pain or sorrow does she feel
Our Lord took from her the loneliness
That her makeup could not conceal.
I gathered momma's makeup
Before we laid her body down to rest
I knelt beside my momma
I prayed that her soul be blessed.
I spoke to her of how
She would be sorely missed
Then with a mascara tear upon my cheek
I gave Momma one last kiss.
My momma's face so pale, bare
No hint of makeup found
Her naked eyes and smile slept
When alas her sun went down.
She wanted to be beautiful
In her casket, all to see
I remembered momma's makeup
So the task was left to me.
With soft blue lines and hints of rouge
I painted momma's now cold skin
I painted her nails her favorite pink
Then I spoke a prayer again.
My daughter curled her grandma's bangs
That framed her lifeless face
While I made sure that momma's makeup
Was applied and all in place.
With soft blue lines and hints of rouge
Momma's face, it did not come alive
With lipstick of her favorite pink
Her smile, in vain, I tried to revive.
When alas we laid my momma down
For eternal, peaceful sleep
Momma's makeup adorned her pale skin
No more mascara tears to weep.
Lipstick of the brightest pink
And powder shades of blue on blue
Adorned my Momma's peaceful rest
When I was but forty two.
With curls in her bangs that night
And makeup placed to stay
My Momma earned her time for rest
"Lord keep my Momma safe.", I pray...*
L.A.McNabb
Friday, 29 March, 2002
Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved
Written for my mother, Janet Edna Bishop-McNabb-Bradbury. Born 18 May, 1939. Called home on 16 March, 2002. *
I love you Momma and for you, I write...*
Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved
Comment On This Poem ---
Momma`s Makeup...2002
Momma`s Makeup...2002