Mo Mhathair (My Mother)
Inspired by a beautiful Gaelic song I heard in concert
Please give me only this:
My Maw’s soft kiss
upon a stubbled cheek.
Lilt the message in my ear,
that built up strength
in face of fear.
She stands the level of my chin.
Makes arguments I never win.
And nodding mute, I grin.
Of course, a curse from Maw;
that sharp invective in a mordant jaw,
was something to behold.
Yes Christ… that fiesty way she had,
stays gladsome to my orphaned heart.
So I mature, remain her little lad.