Whaur wuz me mother’s arms
When I was gasping for air
wi’ th’ black mouth fevers an’ chills?
Whaur wuz she when serpents
fell like rain an struck
their venom intae oor throats?
When lightning bolts an’ tunder
Splintered oor hulls an
Tore apart our decks?
When waves like mountains
Crashed upon us an’
Sent us asunder?
Whaur were thos’ momen’s
Whe’ e’rythin wuz clear
As I set me eyes upon th’ Cruces?
Whe’ th’ sithar strings
an’ th’ dance steps
marched ah’ thru’ th’ evening?
As nights marched
throo the seasons
an’ left us marooned
to be lost forever
beyon’ th’ reach o’ th’
Living God?
Whaur wuz she?
Whaur were thay?
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About jedwardnajera
I am an artist and a Poet. I live the life of a poet. I published several novels. Nena the Fairy and the Iron Rose, Dust of the Moon are among them, available through Amazon Books. I have spent over thirty five years in a classroom. I am now retired from that profession.
My father kept a living record of his lifetime as he lived through the Twentieth Century. He was born in 1908 and almost lived long enough to see us enter the new millennium.
He entrusted to me nearly 400 pages that he wrote through the years.
Now I am continuing the tradition by posting my own stories and misadventures.
I am trying to post a new entry or chapter each Friday. Check in on us at least once a week for the latest post.
