Look
at Her
Look at her.
Once those hands were slender, white and
elegant
Now
thickened, red and scarred so no longer enchant.
Yet
those thick, hard, unsightly hands caressed and banished
Her
children’s uncertainties so completely that they vanished.
Look
at her
Once
so slim and enticing that the watchers would gape.
Now
that mature, strong, heavy and boxlike shape
Has
the strength to clean, wash and work for her young
With
pride in the way so much drudgery can be done.
Look
at her
Once
adorned so fashionably, swaying down the street
Her
high heels tapping out a fast moving tango beat
Now
shabby and slow moving in her slippers and apron
A
reminder of poverty and age ignored by the young.
Look
at her
Eyes
so dull and short-sighted that she can only see
The
stimulus of careers and education in absentee.
Yet
those eyes can sharpen, become alert and attentive
For food to feed yet another mouth always her
imperative.
Look
at her
Her
children grow healthy, intelligent and without strife
Consuming
their mother’s health, broken dreams and life.
And
she regrets nothing, aware of that truth sincere
A
future generation is more permanent than a career.
Look
at her
Honour
the choices she made to end so impoverished
With
her dull eyes, her tired body, her life now finished.
All
sacrifices paid with pride with no pain denied.
Like
the female octopus, she too is forever satisfied.
Margaret
Pierce
I was a
sickly child and an omnivorous reader. This made for a harmonious and
successful substitute for education, as I didn’t spend much time at any of the
schools I attended. Launched on an unsuspecting commercial world as a
stenographer/secretary I ended up as a copywriter in an advertising agency and
took to writing instead of drink when raising children, completed an Arts
Degree at Monash university as a mature age student and lurk in a small
flat in the Dandenongs still writing. I have had poetry, short stories
and articles published and mostly primary and teenage novels as currently
listed on Amazon, Book Depository, Kindle and writers-exchange.com