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Wednesday, 09 September 2009

A Mother's Wish

By Johna Ferguson

Scatter my ashes at Oyster Bay,
Won’t matter much if it’s night or day.

It was very dark in my mother’s womb,
And now will be the same in my watery tomb.

Go out on the bay when the wind isn’t blowing,
My ashes will be like seeds that you are sowing.

Only no plants will grow from them as they sink,
But you can toast my demise with a nice big drink.

Know I’ll be happy wherever I land,
On a rocky bottom or possibly sand.

And next time you eat a fresh oyster be sure,
That the pearl in it will be a gift from her.

Mother’s just don’t die away in the end,
Over their flock’s forever they tend.

So mind your Ps and Qs whatever you do,
I’m looking over my shoulder keeping an eye on you.

[EDITORIAL NOTE: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Instructions for submitting are here.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


Beautifully written and my sentiments exactly. Only my ashes will be scattered from a mountain side and I will be toasted with a very fine wine.

Lovely poem and heartfelt

Simple but poignant piece.

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