General Poetry posted January 7, 2019


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a story in a poem

The Prodigal and Me

by Janet Foor



My last goodbyes had all been said --
no need for fear on this deathbed.
Then came a whisper in the air
from someone standing on the stair.
 
I knew his name from long ago 
and often spoke it soft and low.
But when I heard his voice say “Mom?”
T’was like a gentle, soothing balm.
 
As I recalled my little boy
who was his mother’s pride and joy --
with big blue eyes and freckled nose
whose smile could melt the toughest foes.
 
“I’m sorry Mom,” was all he said
and gently touched my dying head.
I tried to smile and hold his hand
as if to say, “I understand.”
 
But then I looked into his face
and saw the pain of his disgrace.
I prayed "Oh Lord, I’ve one more plea --
Forgive this son of mine -- and me."


 

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Share A Story In A Poem contest entry

Recognized

#534
2019


Sadly, inspired by a reoccurring dream.

"I hope the title explains that this poem is about the separation between a son and his mom. The last line should also reveal that it's not just the son who's to blame, but the mom also holds some responsibility as well."
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by Ajith Nanayakkara at FanArtReview.com

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