Gentle she was

Polesden  Lacey

Gentle she was, a young woman of means, beautiful in her Marcel Wave she was.

A hair dresser with her own shop a teaser of hair and tresses.

Then the quiet Irish man took her eye and her heart.

Not impressed were her parents with the young Irish trade unionist from the motor trade.

Time eventually brought them round to accept the vows the young couple had made.

Grief she bore when her fist born died at six months

brave she was to have more. Three girls then two boys , and two more angels lost in-between.

Then after all was finished me, making six.

Hard she worked to bring us up and support her quiet man who was there for her too.

Kind she was, good and open hearted she was.

The door always open to family and waifs and strays

big hearted she was to all who past through our door.

Always there she was, with words of wisdom and comfort.

Her beautiful heart shone through her eyes.

Patient she was  but there was temper there if needed,

she was not strong or mean but if needed her children and her man she would defend to the death!

Beautiful she was in features and in heart

there was not task she would not finish if she had made a start.

Cried for her daughters she did as her man gave them away

and when her sons went too she had a proud day.

Together alone again by themselves again.

Happy she was full of the business of her quiet man.

Yet she was always ready to talk and help and ease our pain.

Cleaver she was but not school or college wise she was wise in life and love and truth and need.

Lonely she was when her man was taken ,

wept she did as she wanted to join him.

Lost she was without the quiet man .

Heart broken she became though she threw herself in to caring for grandchildren.

Gone she was before her body, her mind and soul went to him.

Lost to us she was, a smile here and there maybe a flash of recognition.

Unknowing of all around her she was,sad eyed frighted lamb lonely lonely.

Tiny she was when she went sadly lost to us long before .

Gone into her mind to find her quiet man.

Tears we shed for her,we wept in grief and I in anger because so long had she been gone and I had wanted to talk to her,

but gone she really was.

Anemones her favourite flowers were they always remind me of her.

I forgave her for leaving me and now accept she had to go

as by the side of her quiet man was where she had to be.

Never to be forgotten.


12 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Eric Alagan
    Jun 19, 2013 @ 23:09:57

    What a truly beautiful soul – blessed are you, born of her and her man.


  2. zendictive
    Jun 20, 2013 @ 11:36:56

    tender morsel of literary art (~_~)


  3. ramblingsfromamum
    Oct 21, 2013 @ 10:01:11

    Another beautiful reading Willow – I loved these lines – she was not strong or mean but if needed her children and her man she would defend to the death! Lost to us she was, a smile here and there maybe a flash of recognition.
    Unknowing of all around her she was,sad eyed frighted lamb lonely lonely.

    A true mother a heart – warming tribute to a beautiful lady. I understand all what you have written and said here – thank you.


    • willowdot21
      Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:18:20

      Thank you, this was the most difficult poem to write. Even harder to read because each time I read the lines about her after her strokes and my father’s death ” Lost to us she was, a smile here and there maybe a flash of recognition. Unknowing of all around her she was,sad eyed frighted lamb lonely lonely.” I cried infact I still do even after all these years. I was struck by your love for your parents in your writing, may they be with you for a while yet.


      • ramblingsfromamum
        Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:21:04

        I can imagine how difficult it must have been, but you were a trooper and she would of smiled, together with your dad. Yes I adore them and I do hope that they are with me for a while yet…it’s hard to imagine them not being and thank you xx

      • willowdot21
        Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:37:27

        I was sad that mum was lost to us and especially me I would trail all the way up to Hammersmith from the depths of Berkshire mostly on the train two boys 10yrs, 8yrs and baby and she did not know us. I wanted to talk I needed advice but I could not get through. Maybe it was she that could not get through I hope I did not distress her more by babbling on about this that anything to get her to see us. I don’t know how my brothers and sisters felt I felt cheated even angry. The night she died I dreamt she came to me and we talked and talked then in the morning the phone call came………. I had been with her until late the last days I remember getting a call at work. As luck would have it I had the car that day I dropped the boys off after school and drove like a maniac….. I don’t remember the drive I must of flown up the motorway I got there in 3/4 an hour! I did not cry at her funeral I brave… stupid more like, seven years later I broke down and said I was sorry for being so selfish and angry with her, I was so stupid I chewed myself up all that time because I though I was wicked and selfish but I know she understood.
        Sorry I have gone on , I don’t think I have written an of that out before. Love your Mum and Dad make the most of them for as long as you can, but you know that already I can tell.

      • ramblingsfromamum
        Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:44:00

        Oh Willow ~ you brought tears. I know with mum her memory is going and she is starting to do some silly things – putting a teat-towel and tissues in the fridge. She cut the cuff of a casual (in house) fleecy jacket and couldn’t explain to me why she did it, only that she must have had a good reason.Some days she is more lucid, but I see that far away look in her eyes when we talk. Yes, I have got angry with her also, like you did with your mum. We can’t help it as we witness them slipping away. I believe in after life Willow and she and you did speak the night before. She was letting you know she was going. Patience is required I know especially with mum. With Pop it breaks my heart to see him like this. Life so cruel. I shall, I do – thank you for sharing your story {hugs} xx

      • willowdot21
        Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:53:34

        I have upset us both , sorry lets take a deep breath and get back on with coping. Your mum is in there just keep reminding her who she is and how much she is loved and just support your Pop he will need you more if your mum is slipping into the past. I am sending you love and wishing you lots of Gods help . Had I of met me now , when I was me then,I would of said be patient and smile . love to you thanks for listening.

      • ramblingsfromamum
        Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:56:27

        Deep breath taken, my bed calls me it’s 12pm now.
        I shall try – it can be so hard and I was not blessed with much patience at all, but I know it’s not her when she does these things. I shall smile as tomorrow morning I have to take them for blood tests at 7.30…or will that be a grimace? Thank you for sharing – love back xx

      • willowdot21
        Oct 21, 2013 @ 11:58:03

        sleep well and don’t worry smile or grimace you are there for them. xxxxxx 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Follow me on Twitter

Follow Us

Follow Us

Follow Us

Follow Us

Joy Lennick

Writing and Reading

The Swan Song

Words and Words are all I have!

The Silent Eye

A Modern Mystery School


Writing, the Universe and whatever occurs to me

The Annual Bloggers Bash

The Official Website for the Best Blogging Event of the Year!

Just muddling through life

The ups and downs of a working mum


Our Thoughts Influence Our Life.

Iain Kelly

Fiction Writing

Roberta Writes

How you see life depends on how you look at things

The Showers of Blessings

Giving and Receiving Blessings


Tigers not daughters

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Echoes of Life, Love and Laughter

Jordy’s Streamings

Solve et Coagula


Fiction is the ONLY Reality.

Susie Lindau's Wild Ride

Come for Adventure. Stay for the Ride!

Pain Pals

My family & friends living with me.....and chronic illness


Otherworldy Things

Inspiring Images

inspiring, photography, inspirational

Quiet Hope

insights, quandaries, questions - shared among friends

Author Don Massenzio

Independent Authors Unite!

A Vodka Kind Of Mom

Where you can feel okay about having a vodka tonic while playing with your children with a splash of my feminist views and a whole hell of a lot of female empowerment


guardian of irish mythology

Martin Cororan

Guerrilla marketing

Robbie's inspiration

Ideas on writing and baking

Judy E Martin

Author, Poet and lover of life

Gramma Krackers

Words of the Wise Krackers

This Bipolar Brat

Read between the lines

Jane Dougherty Writes

About fantastical places and other stuff

Lemon Shark

Navigating the Uncharted Waters of Life

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Blog magazine for lovers of health, food, books, music, humour and life in general

Trent's World (the Blog)

Random Ramblings and Reviews from Trent P. McDonald

My Dad Is A Goldfish

Caring for a demented dad

Book 'Em, Jan O

Ghosts, Tall Tales & Witty Haiku!

Life is too short to drink bad wine

La vie est trop courte pour boire du mauvais vin

%d bloggers like this: