Here’s the first post of this new blog, which I created as an online journal for my sporadic creative efforts. I hope to make those efforts less sporadic by journaling them in this blog. I don’t have a great track record, but we’ll see if this experiment increases my creative productivity. My thought, and my hope, is that posting this publicly will make me feel more accountable, which will drive me to exercise my creativity more regularly.

Today’s creative effort is a poem dedicated to my mom, who just celebrated her 80th birthday. We lost Dad at the end of 2020, and it’s been lonely without him, but Mom’s strength is unparalleled. She makes it very easy for me and my brothers to carry on, because the example she sets is so admirable. I talk with her every day, and she never misses the opportunity to tell me just how much she loves me. That means everything.

I’m not nearly that good at expressing my love and appreciation to her or the rest of the family. It comes easier to me if I put the words down in rhyme in the form of a poem. While inspiration for such poetry comes to me sporadically, I decided to compile all the poems I’ve written into the Poetry page of this blog site. Today I’ll add this newest poem, inspired by and dedicated to Mom. I hope she enjoys it. 😊💖

Mom

Inspired by and dedicated to Joanne Bride

Mom may not know the impact
She and Dad had on their sons,
But their example taught us
In ways none others have done.

She’s there for every moment,
Whether it be big or small,
And when we may need guidance,
She is there each time we call.

As youngsters, we could witness
The devotion on display
When she walked out the door
To live her purpose every day.

For nursing is her calling,
And she met the call with pride.
Her patients were quite lucky
To have our mom on their side.

A passion to make music
Also dwells within her heart.
Her prowess on accordion
Really sets her apart.

Mom dearly loves her family.
She opens her heart wide,
And for her grandkids, she displays
A special sense of pride.

Her faith in us is constant,
And it’s comforting to know,
On days we need encouragement,
We realize where to go.

Of all moms we could wish for,
She’s the best of every one,
And nothing makes me prouder
Than to say I am her son.