Written for Davidβs Weaβve Written Weekly.
Dawn is our PoW this week; her prompt is
to write a Dectina Refrain about mothers.
This is my poem for my mother-in-law.
Tag: Mothers
His Jealous Mother
Written for dVerse Poets β Quadrille Monday 209 β Plucking Strings
Our host Lisa asks us to include the word “string(s)” in our piece.
This is my free verse poem based on a true story as told by my mother.
My fatherβs mother hated my mother for marrying her son.
Returning from their honeymoon, my parents visited her mother, then his mother.
When his mother opened the door, she pushed my mother down the stairs, breaking the string of pearls around my motherβs neck.
NARΒ©2024
44 Words
This is βA String of Pearlsβ by Glenn Miller and His Orchestra.
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.
For My Daughters-In-Law On Mother’s Day
Daughters-in-law are our grandchildren’s mothers.
As such, they carry our fortunes downstream.
Under their guidance, our hopes become others’,
Giving their force to a much larger dream.
How lucky we are to have you for the carer
That nurtures the hearts of our hearts, that they may
Each be a lover, a giver and sharer,
Remaking the world in their image each day.
So do we all, like streams from the mountains,
In time become joined in the souls we have made,
Now mingled forever, eternal companions,
Linked by our love in a bond that won’t fade.
As you in your noontime your work of love do,
We watch from the hillside, grateful for you.
NARΒ©2024
This is βMy Wish For Youβ by Rascal Flatts
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not for use by anyone without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.
Home Cooking
Sammi at Weekend Writing Prompt
is challenging us with the word βnoteβ;
in exactly 72 words, this is my response.
My mother was a terrific cook; her specialty was, of course, homemade Italian food β manicotti, arancini, etc.
She left me her βrecipe book, which was really nothing more than scribbled notes. Her ‘detailed‘ cooking instructions read: βsome cheeseβ and a βglassβ of water.
I can remember the glass she used to add water to whatever she was cooking; it was an old Flintstones jelly jar.
How I wish I had that jar!
NARΒ©2024
72 Words
This is “Come On-A My House” by Louis Prima
This portfolio (includingΒ text, graphics and videos)Β is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs TrunkΒ and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR Β© 2017-present.
DOTTIE PESSIN
Fandango gave us a Story Starter prompt and
Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge challenged us to write a
Six Sentence Story, being as creative with punctuation as we dare.
This is my answer to Fan’s prompt and Girlie’s challenge. Enjoy!
πΆπΆπΆ
One day when I was about nine years old, I was home with my mother when there was a knock on our door and when I answered it, I was very surprised to see Dottie Pessin β our pudgy-handed neighbor from around the corner who rarely made an appearance β standing there in her perpetually stained housecoat, carrying a thin, flat brown paper bag, hair in curlers, and declaring βOh, Nancy, Iβm so glad youβre home from school because I have something for you and Iβd like to come in to show you.β
Well, it wasnβt every day that someone came to our door unannounced bearing gifts for me for no reason under the sun, so I was not about to turn Dottie away (I was no fool, even back then), but my mother had now joined us and was somewhat suspicious about this strange, unexpected visit and asked Dottie to explain herself, to which Dottie replied βI was out shopping when I came across this album of kid’s songs and I immediately thought of Nancy, so I bought it hoping she would like it” and clapping her pudgy hands added “I’m very anxious for her reaction so let’s give it a listen.”
Now, I don’t mind telling you this surprised the hell out of me and pleased me no end because I was already madly in love with everything about music and could barely contain my excitement as I reached for my little record player with the image of Brenda Lee on the lid; Dottie apparently shared my enthusiasm and as the music played she kept asking me βDo you like it? Do you like it?β to which I had to admit I did indeed like it very much (seeing as how I was a kid listening to an album of kid’s songs β what’s not to like?).
We listened to one side of the album and, as I was flipping it over to listen to the other side, Dottie exclaimed βOh, Iβm so pleased you like the album but I just noticed the time and the “Edge Of Night” is coming on in 15 minutes so Iβm going to take the record back now and be on my wayβ; my mother, ever in She-Wolf mode, saw the confused and let-down look on my face and was damn well taken aback herself by that strange and sudden announcement by Dottie β¦. after all, the album was supposed to be a gift β¦. and my mother questioned Dottie in no uncertain terms βJust what the hell do you mean youβll take Nancy’s gift back, Dottie?β
Without an apparent thought for others nor the slightest bit of remorse or worry …. not about my mother’s sizzling Sicilian volcano temper nor the sadness building in my eyes …. Dottie replied βOh, this isnβt a gift for Nancy; I bought this for my friendβs daughter whoβs the same age as Nancy, but since I donβt know anything about little girls (never having had any myself) and the things they like, I wanted to run it by Nancy first to get her opinion, just to make sure it was a good gift and my friend’s daughter wouldn’t be disappointedβ, and with that, Dottie Pessin …. our pudgy-handed neighbor from around the corner who rarely made an appearance …. patted the curlers in her hair, took her thin, flat brown paper bag with the album of kidβs songs inside, held it tightly against her perpetually stained housecoat and bounced out our house like the giant green Grinch helium balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade without so much as a pudgy-handed wave or a glance over her shoulder to spy a regret-filled teardrop fall onto my purple Daisy Duck sweater (because all the other girls wore Minnie Mouse sweaters and I was never like all the other girls).
Now, you may be asking yourself βCould something this bizarre really be true and how could that woman screw with a little girl’s feelings like that?β and I will tell you that it most certainly is true β every pitiful word; I have no idea how someone could be so unaware and insensitive (unless they have their head so far up their ass they can smell Brylcreem) but, after 60-plus years, I still remember that surreal afternoon with Dottie Pessin like it was yesterday and, being a smart cookie for a 9 year old, I had the same thought about Dottie back then as I have this very moment: “What a stupid bitch!” π
NAR Β© 2023
This is the Rolling Stones performing “Bitch” …. as if anything else would do!
It’s time to celebrate
Birthday Thursdays
over at The Rhythm Section.
No fuss, no muss β
just wall-to-wall music.
Stop by for some cake and sympathy!
π
https://rhythmsection.blog/
The Elephant's Trunk 