Mother Tongue

My mother tongue is English

My mother had no need for it

She always had to call me in for supper

And she used a whistle which

Was a little tuneful for the time of day

Like when she called Rhapsody in Blue to me

When I wanted a look for a new

Holding point on the cup of stew that she

Gave to me for breakfast.  I will be

There and here now, for all can see that I

Should be the one who is about to be pulled in

To the side of the road for free-spinning the wheels of chase

For the lot of time that has been forward and so it can be toward the rear

Too.

Copyright B E Saunders 2016

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4 comments
    • Nameste….but you asked for it, so here goes: MINE is the language of Love ! X X

      Good morning Sweetheart! Poetry in the morning? Good on ya! Hope the road rises to meet you (a Scottish wish for good fortune)

      Liked by 1 person

      • smiling

        Namaste and good mornin Bruce!

        Language of love leads to pain
        This is a warning from a friend

        hehe

        Liked by 1 person

      • Yes but what is Life without Pain? Sister, you take care.

        Liked by 1 person

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