My Mother’s Mother Was Called Mother
–no other
And her mother’s mother was none other than mother –
what another?
My father’s mother was called Martha and her mother
was mummy
And Marther’s mother’s mother was called Mary
Martha
Many more of the clan where mainly mostly mad about
the name Mary not Arthur
It might sound mad and morbid to have so many Mary
Martha and mothers in this mad poem
But mostly it’s inny Meany mini mo that makes the
family weather the storm
Meanwhile the money needed to make the mother’s
merrier through drink
Is more or less in a mess and that makes you think!
The morale of this motherly tale
Is mmm to make more mothers matter in my mind and
not the male.
Written by a mad monk from the madhouse
2010 George Hanks
A Gift in November
I have no hesitation in saying:
My gift goes to a lady who Word4Word likes playing.
Her name is Ann
But I call her Dolly and she knows who I am.
What would I give her
That might lead her to shed a tear?
It would not be advice!
She's too experienced and awfully nice.
Maybe a trip into Cyber space,
With her poetry, find a quiet place.
Or a poem that I would write.
One that would please her like flying a kite
All of the above I would willingly gift
But I'd like to give her something with a lift!
A first class airline ticket to Brussels and back
And a reminder that a suitcase she must pack.
Why? Because Dolly has been such a good friend to me.
Without her my book would not be around for you to see
A "World Made of Glass" would be "Poetry in Motion."
The two together would make the Parkinson's Poet's Rhyme Potion
My gift to me today
Is the chance to have my say.
