A Few Poems For my Mother

Wake up call


If you can keep your head when all about you

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

by Rudyard Kipling

Gusty and Warm

I saw the season’s first bluebird

this morning, one month ahead

of it’s scheduled arrival.

Lucky I am

to go off to my cancer appointment

having been given a bluebird, and,

for a lifetime, having been given

this world.

By Ted Hooser – former US Poet Laureate


Note 1:) Claudia Zoe Bedrick , the founder of Enchanted Lion Books in the US, is an immense poetry-lover. She became besotted with poetry early and has remained bewitched for life. She tells her story like this. For my 8th birthday, my dad gave me a book called Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle: a book that now sits on my teenage son’s shelf. His inscription: Stories are a meal. But poetry is a glass of water, perhaps even a single drop that will save your life. At the age of eight, I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but I came to, and have ever since thought of poetry as water: essential, calm, churning, a vortex of light and shadow, refreshingly cool, pleasingly warm, and sometimes just hot enough or cold enough to jolt, charge, render slightly uncomfortable, and bring one fully, deeply to life once again.

Note 2:) Here is a beautiful Ted Talk on Nature Beauty and Gratitude I posted it over a year ago but it is always inspiring to watch.

Note 3:) I truly enjoyed this classic French song, by the Laval Youth Choir in  Quebec. The song is about friendship, and how we need each other to help see us through our difficulties. And how we can warm each other’s hearts with our tender caring of each other.

Note 4:) Thank you for your good wishes for My Mother. I pass on every one. Everyday, her emails arrive bearing some good news, along with the reality of life with a broken hip at 100. Thank you once again for stopping by here to read this blog.  Stay safe and enjoy everyday. Warmest wishes, trudy

15 replies
  1. Carol Ingells
    Carol Ingells says:

    Thank you for the wonderful poems, Trudy, several of which are favorites of mine, as well. And pass along my prayers for healing to your dear mother!

  2. Patti Morris
    Patti Morris says:

    Oh Trudy … first and foremost … your remarkable mother has been in the forefront of my mind and heart. I hope that she is healing … while knowing that she is surely healing others in her midst. Sending all of my healing thoughts and energy her way.

    And Trudy .. thank you for sharing these beautiful words. There were some poems that I wasn’t familiar with and that brought tears. I loved “I Confess” and “The Lanyard”.

    Hand to heart, Trudy.
    xo Patti

  3. Sue Fitzwilson
    Sue Fitzwilson says:

    Much love to you and your mom. She has been a wonderful inspiration to you and many others. How very fortunate you both are.

  4. janice
    janice says:

    ah The Lanyard, of course, who else has said so succinctly, so elegantly that we can never repay our mother for the gift of this precious life. Sweetness and light to your dear mother Trudy and always to you. love Jan

  5. Nancy
    Nancy says:

    Beautiful post Trudy….just like you and your Mother….”beautiful”.
    My favourite poem is The Lanyard….thank you for sharing. Please give that dear Mother of yours my love and a big fat virtual hug.
    Thinking of you both so much. Sending love!
    Nancy xoxoxo

  6. Margaret Rode
    Margaret Rode says:

    Thank you for the beautiful poems, Trudy. Sending a bushel-basket of golden, healing energy to your magnificent mom. xxoo


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