REMEMBERING MY MOTHER	            RGAaPoet@aol.com

	I walk the silent, lonely streets,
	In sombre solitude,
	Pondering over things that were,
	In ever-changing mood.

	Through sifting mists of time,
	I see my mother's kindly smiles;
	The hands that reached to brush a curl;
	The arms that hushed my cries.

	I gaze into her loving face --
	I kiss her weary brow,
	Longing, in vain, with heavy heart,
	That she could be here now.

	Full well do I remember,
	The times she flew to meet
	My father, working far away,
	To make our lives complete.

	These were the times my little heart
	Could not keep back the tears,
	And I would sit down, all alone,
	Crying to curb my fears.

	Oh with what joy I greeted her,
	Whenever she came back home!
	And how I almost raised the roof,
	To know no more she'd roam!

	The years rolled by, and fate was kind,
	Until one day in May,
	Of nineteen-fifty-eight,
	My mother passed away.

	The tears I shed, the pain I felt,
	I hide, but can't deny!
	And deep within the heart of me,
	I know that I still cry....

      Copyright  (c) 1959, 1980, 1995 by Ronald G. Auguste