She was Here

When she comes,
The essence of flowers adorned the whole room
Stopping the winds, she walks quietly room to room
The windows opened in a loud voice
She hung her hair and sit beside the window
Black long hair touches her waist
I leer her silently
When she turns back, I close my eyes
Pretend like a fool soaked in a deep sleep
Then, she comes forward to me without sound, with no feel
I feel the terrible emptiness on her face
I do not see anything else
Gradually I burn to ashes for not able to touch her
She pulls the cover on me
She hums a song
Her fingers touches clearly on my head
I tremble with shock
Breath taking terrible silence in the room

Even in the dark, I realize the feel for touching her!

Every night she comes, so I stay awake
She makes me sleep and walks room to room
In the kitchen, she moves things around
I hear the sound sharply
She comes back to my room again
With gentle walk
Essence of flowers spreads in the room, again
She tuck the silver made key chain in her waist
She folds my clothes, arrange shoes on the shoe rake
I look at her with horror
Anxiety holds me tight
With tears I hold my breath
If she listens! If she goes away!
Invisible connections with her increases mourning;
In the middle of the night, my heart cries out of the stupid life
Her face is not seen, only I can see her hair
The tears flow in the eyes and invites for a storm
And once, I lost in the memories of canvas!

In the morning, I wake up with the feel of her presence
I search her in my room
Sitting on the floor I scream out;
She is not anywhere
Dad said, my suffering is called illusion
I find her foot prints going into delusion
Yes! My mother's footprint!

She was here
She comes every night to make me sleep
I can feel her presence but can't touch her
Every morning I scream, I cry, get exhausted searching for her
And immediately after that I feel;
My Mother is touching me with her cold hands!

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Who can say what is real and what is not? Love never faileth. Can those who truly love, then, ever be far away from us?

[HB Rita]

Hey! It went through thumbs down do not know how! Option is not letting me to thumbs up! Ha ha! What's going on!

[kentuck14]

HB,
A very mysterious piece . . . well written. Your mother as a ghost . . . a mixture of love and fear . . . which never mix well . . . thus the haunted feel of this poem. Congratulations.
Tom

[HB Rita]

Thank you Kent! Her mother is no more but she hallucinates her mother every night!

[Chris Shaw]

Beautifully written. Such a touching poem to read about your Mother. Conveyed with much feeling.

Chris

[HB Rita]

Thanks you Christime. Unfortunatele, the girl crave for her mother and goes through delusional conflict every night and feels her mother touching her with cold hand.

[Paul Bell]

Great write, intense and moving, but the thing that definitely proves it's your mum, the cold hands.

[HB Rita]

Thanks for review. Yes a Mother who is no more and the child has illusion to feel her every night.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

what an ending....love that line...intense poem...needs some editing, but a strong poem of mourning for a mother...they can never be replaced and i know....miss mine greatly...
j.

[HB Rita]

Mothers are always something to miss.........