Saturday 1 March 2014


For Ayrton...with love

Prunus branches curl like protective Angel's wings
around a garden path's end.
Beneath the surrounding hedge, robins and blackbirds
have scratched decaying leaves into rough heaps
in their tireless quest for twigs and grass stalks
to weave into spring nests,
along with any other suitable detritus
bequeathed by the dying winter.
But these fascinating rituals barely register today.
Instead, my attention is focused on a small hand print
set into the aged concrete.
This poignant relic is usually well obscured,
but over zealous pruning on the part of a gardener
has exposed it once more to common sight.
Still, this remote edge of the garden is rarely visited,
it's quietness holding vigil over memory's final stronghold.

It was a powerful yearning that brought me here today,
a compulsion to hold on to what threatens to fade
into gradual forgetfulness, then eventual loss.
That such a day would dawn never entered my head then,
when I lived in perpetual idyllic now.
I foolishly believed my little boy
would remain that small and close to me forever.
But in retrospect, that was no more
than motherhood's wishful dream, because today
all I have left of that naive Utopia
is this simple imprint, it's edges
time-worn and crumbling, like some absurd
artistic representation of a crushing nostalgia
that disguises a much deeper
yet nameless emotion.
How my heart aches to reach out to that child once more
and hug him close to me.
But he no longer exists,
so all I can do is grieve.
Yet for what?

This adult I see daily is someone else,
a stranger who seems oblivious to my existence.
It appears time has played the dirtiest trick:
has severed the bond that cannot be severed,
that of mother and child.
Gone is the fun and laughter we shared,
and in it's place is a cool aloofness.
It is as if I never carried him in my womb,
connected Soul-to-Soul by unconditional love.
Oh how did we come to this:
exchanging only curt civilities with distant mutual respect?
As I run my fingers over these rough stony edges,
I am painfully aware of a gaping hollow deep inside
that will never again be filled.
And the tears begin to well up...

48 hours later:
A tall, athletic young man approaches
from the direction of the race track.
Removing his helmet and gloves,
"Yesss," he yells, raising a fist in the air,
"Fastest lap time again!"
And that beaming smile almost stops my heart.
I think it is the eyes...still the same,
soft and brown - my long lost child's eyes.
But now, as he holds out his arms to hug me,
I notice his hands - really notice:
the slight curve of his right index finger,
the position of the thumb,
and a surge of elation almost chokes me.
This is the same hand that made my precious imprint,
only now grown larger!
Reaching through the parenthesis of wet cement,
I grasp that hand now
and I feel our shared history
flowing through today
and on into the future...

Two Souls on separate life journeys?
We never were.


  1. nice...pretty cool your son is a racer as well....we did the stones for my mom with our do think they will stay that age...the handprints are so distinct too...but they do change...maybe that curves finger from something along the way or

  2. I'm sure they will stand the test of time...this one has, although as you can see, it is rather the worse for wear! *smiles*
    I do hunger for times gone by...but maybe I should really appreciate what I have now...
    Many thanks Brian.
    Happy weekend :)

  3. \oh Dear Ygraine, the soul of a son'mom is the most fragile of them all, the love we shared when he was but a boy that enormous well of love that can't ever be filled disappears only to re-occur and reminds us, no matter water they are out boys and nothing will ever change that xxx and \I understand perfectly your doubt your love and the certainty of it, you and \I we share, that wonder of our boy becoming a man....this is so lovely and heartbreaking and above all oh so true, this has soothed me and reassured me and \I thank you for sharing it xxx000

    1. Oh Lorraine...such a wonderfully comforting feeling to know that you are with me in this experience...that you have felt it all too.
      You are so right...these deep feelings never disappear, however many years pass and our children become adults...the love changes, but never lessens. We will feel it always.

      Thank you so, so much dear friend.

      Hugs xxx

  4. I enjoyed this very much. We must each find our place in the journey enjoying the memories and those being made now..

    1. Yes, I totally agree...but why is it, I wonder, that some of us find the journey so painful while others seem to sail through the experience?!
      Must be a question of each individual's degree of sensitivity, I guess :/

      Many thanks, Anthony :)

  5. Oh, you beauty, you precious poet, crafty word-maker, dream-weaver! Twice in a row now I've choked up after reading your heart-felt verses. How can you...? It's a mother's love, isn't it? A parent's unconditional love. That's what does it. That's the magic. Oh, I loved this, I really loved this. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

    1. Now it is my turn to be choked...your kind words have truly moved me...Soul-deep.
      How can I ever thank you enough for understanding...except to say thank you...from the very depths of my being...:)

  6. I love the picture so much and I love what you wrote! I will never be a mother, but I understand the connection, of what my mother and I have. We might have our separate lives, but we are still connected ;o) Big Hugs ;o)

    1. Oh I am so say you will never be a mother.
      I will not pry by asking why. Suffice to say that I can truly feel for you.
      Having lost my first child at the tender age of two weeks, I never believed for a moment that I would someday be a mother again. But miracles can happen...

      Oh thank you...
      thank you so much!
      Hugs xxx

  7. Dear Ygraine'
    I can't begin to tell you how much your poems touched my heart.
    I was sad but also felt such joy to see that gorgeous photo of the beautiful mom and handsome son.
    You are blessed.

    I am meeting my son tonight for dinner and can't wait to see him as he is 'my pride and joy'

    1. Thank you so much Margie...yes, I am indeed blessed!
      I hope you had a wonderful time with your son.
      Such times mean so much, don't they?!

      I do hope you are feeling much better now.
      Am thinking of you always.
      Hugs xxx

  8. I'll never be able to fathom the depth of love a mother holds for her son but I do a son for his mother. I did feel your longing and grief though and was myself saddened but what joy in the end!

    "Reaching through the parenthesis of wet cement" - yes! we mustn't let ourselves be hardened.

    1. Not sure I can fathom it either Tug...nor adequately explain it.
      I guess it is a longing for what once was...for something that has changed almost beyond recognition, yet still exists in a less idyllic form.
      And yet...the bond, being time honored, is stronger than ever!

      Our hearts must remain pliable, lest we lose the ability to love!! :)

  9. Just in case you didn't get my e-mail I need your address the sooner the better...package is already at the post office I've paid 'cause I know you were from the all they need is a phone call from me to tell them where to send it, hurry up lol

    1. So sorry Lorraine...I haven't checked my e-mails for a couple of days, due to a connection problem!
      I will check it out shortly.
      And thank you so much...I am

  10. What wonderful and amazing poem Ygraine and you touched me!
    I have a son of 19 and always remember when he has little and was so close to me!
    And love the picture!!!

    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  11. Oh thank you so much, Gloria!
    Isn't it amazing how we mothers all have the same deep feelings regarding our children?
    Makes me feel so comforted.

    Hugs xxx

  12. ygraine leave your add. here\; and then delete it....hopefully it will appear on my e-mail

  13. \I can be reached at OR depending on which laptop \I\.m on or like \I said leave it in your profile for a short while and \I will pick it up from there ......

  14. It's ok Ygraine some people don't feel comfortable their address I'll get it back from the \post office and get reimbursed it's no problem at all, I understand

    1. I apologise for the misunderstanding...have had no connection again! :(
      I did send you my address via e-mail, but I guess it never reached you.
      Am having so many problems posting comments and sending e-mails is so frustrating!!
      So sorry...xx

  15. Such a fabulous write Ygraine from sadness to joy what a journey! And an amazing photograph to accompany it, you look so fabulous Ygraine! A very
    handsome young man your son is :)
    \note the double fabulous :)

    1. Yes, it is just a question of perception, I see that now...he is still here, only changed almost beyond recognition! *smiles*
      Thank you so much, Rose...he really appreciates that!!
      And a double fabulous...what more could anyone ask?!

      Have a great weekend xxx

  16. Oh, Ygraine!!! This was so beautiful, each and every thought and word, that I had chills while reading it.

    Beautiful mother and her very handsome son...gorgeous photos~~~


    1. Oh thank you so much Jan...your kind words mean so much to me.

      Hugs xxx


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