Mothers Day Poems

For Lelia 2009


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Mumís Mother Lelia, not Mother Mary,

But through my dear Lelia, Mary can I see:

Lelia the flower,

Present in each hour,

Who bloomed one day and brought forth me.


A new poem blooms to precede

 

The Muse who proves times not destroying,

But like a fair bloom ever growing,

Can spread ideas,

Airborne like seeds

On winds of words, loveís spirit sowing.

 

 

 


 

My Mumís mother Lelia, not Mother Mary,

But through my dear Lelia, Mary can I see:

Lelia the flower,

Present in each hour,

Who bloomed one day, not just for me.

 

Lelia bloomed and brought three

Little boys here to be, brothers free;

Made by a father,

Or great King he is rather,

Called Roy. (The sun ray do I see!)

 

Thus the flower and the ray,

Brought three boys here to play,

Who did grow day by day,

And went off far away,

But who most gladly say- praise to thee!

 

Praise and love to thee great mother

Thou didíst give me two brothers;

Who I donít understand,

But no matter.The hands

Of my brothers and mother arenít like the others.

 

So letís praise such a threefold begetting

Brother trinityĎs not for forgetting;

A transparent love wakes them,

As Royís light rays made them,

Cross countries and time shines the King.


Not Fathers, Sons and Holy Ghosts,

But Motherís, Daughterís Spirit I love most:

Copying, being the former I have grown,

Created, sculpted in the latter I was born.

So to sculpting Betters-Mothers, Daughters is my toast!

Hereís a poem about a daughter named Helen!

 

Helen you have captured

The warmth of the summer sun

In your golden burnished hair,

The softness of the morning breeze,

Which comes from the sea, in your skin.

 

Helen you are enraptured

In music and in your own fun;

You are emboldened so fair,

By the strength of the youthful blaze

Which erupts from your sweet soul within.


 

 

 

There now follow

eight new poems

about the Town of Wehlen

in Saxon Switzerland,

which all started out

by me translating

a sunny and naieve

Wehlen poem

on the archway

leading into the town.

 

Wehlen is for me

Mother Nature

newly unfurling

before my eyes!

 


Springtime

 

Oh rainiest Wehlen!

Where raindrops do sing,

Drip-drop on the rooftops,

Down the full guttering.

Here the sweetest birdsí chirps,

Soft snowdrops nodding,

And the carefreest children

Usher Wehlenís Spring in.


Summertime

 

Oh sunniest Wehlen!

Our Switzerland pearl,

You sweet little town,

With own charm for us all.

You are in fact old,

But appear ever new,

Oh sunniest Wehlen,

Iíll stay true to you.


Autumntime

 

Oh windiest Wehlen!

How your strong winds do wail!

Scatter leaves on us all,

Bring the tall trees to flail.

Down your steeps streets which fall,

To the valley below,

I am gladly swept through,

By the Wehlen winds so.


Wintertime

 

Oh wintriest Wehlen!

White pearl of the night,

Your lamps light the river,

While stars bright excite.

You are in fact cold,

Yet your charms warm my heart,

Oh wintriest Wehlen,

Sweet beautiful sight.


Spring II

 

Budding green Wehlen,

Through Winterís dead skin,

You reach for the sunlight,

With shoots very thin.

You accompany Flora,

Scatter new flowers bright,

Weave a garland round Wehlen,

Which grows through the whole year.


Summer II

 

Verdant green Wehlen,

Dianaís address,

She hunts in the forests,

With animals blessed.

Now she weeps on the ground,

Rainfall tears no less,

She has Acteon found,

Will her wrong now redress.


Autumn II

 

Golden-most Wehlen,

Fair Autumnís Princess,

Bright fall your warm leaves,

To the earthís beating breast.

Yet their glow does not cease,

As they lie on the ground,

Wehlen winds do them swish,

With a leaf-rustling sound.


Winter II

 

Hidden white Wehlen,

You rest, fall asleep.

Wintry eyes now enchanted,

Through curtains may peep.

Though the cold is not wanted,

The soft whiteness we love,

As it settles on Wehlen,

Peaceful snowflakes like doves.