She rejoices when Spring spreads its green skirts,
Arranges them about its sun-draped form
And settles upon the tilled garden dirt
That basks beneath a bright blanket of warmth.

Seeds sprout, take root, raise their tiny green heads,
Reach for the sun, drink in April’s showers.
She picks the brash, ripe produce, tends the beds
With gentle hands and love’s healing power.

Seasons change, a chill creeps over the land,
Diminishes the sun, guides in fall’s winds.
Vegetables grow sluggish, as do the hands,
And winds once warm are replaced by cold friends.
Winter howls, its fangs frost-bite spring and she.
Spring will return...Mother, at last, is free.

©2021 KT Workman

(Note: A sonnet is a 14-line poem written in iambic pentameter. It contains and octave (presents the theme and develops it) and a sestet (which brings the poem to a conclusion).

Rhyme scheme: a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f-e-f, g-g.

Image by Adina Voicu from Pixabay

Published by

KT Workman

KT Workman grew up in the rural South without the benefit of cell phones or the Internet, a time and place that has heavily influenced her writing. To this day, when she puts pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—nine times out of ten her mind veers south onto that old, familiar road. It goes home. KT resides in Arkansas where she writes a wide variety of gothic and speculative fiction, poetry, and dabbles in watercolor painting and amateur photography.

15 thoughts on “Mother”

    1. Thank you, Alan. Always good to see you here. 💙
      After taking an online poetry writing class, it inspired me to write more poetry and to try different forms, some quite complicated. As for the sonnet, there are several different forms. This one is a Shakespearean sonnet.

      Liked by 2 people

  1. I have been generally ignorant about poetry except in the broad sense of rhythm and rhyme, and what I have learned about biblical poetry, which is a whole other subject I may write about in the future. However, you are educating me here and I am grateful for that. I enjoyed your sonnet very much. My mother passed on 25 years ago this past March. My brothers and I all spoke at her funeral. Since then, my dad, two of my brothers and one of my sisters have also passed on to the care of the LORD, leaving one brother and sister remaining. I preached at the funeral services for my dad and one of my brothers. However, I have struggled to write something of my own, like a poem, for any of them in honor of their memory on a personal level.
    p.s,- I also may have solved the problem of email notifications for my posts and I replied to your comment on my latest post about that.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I took an online poetry class a few months ago, and had no idea until then that there are so many poetic forms out there. The class inspired me to try my hand at structured poetry instead of my usual free-verse style (which I only had a vague impression of what it entailed). A fellow blogger (who recently died) that I had followed about five years wrote many poems with a Christian theme. I wrote one in tribute to him named “Goodbye”. D. T., you are such a good writer I think that if you put your mind to it, you would excel at writing poetry. For me, a poem starts with a few words or a germ of an idea, and I build on that. I’m sure you have written many sermons in your day, and a poem is like a sermon in that you are imparting your thoughts and impressions on a particular subject, but in a structured form. Just like any writing, a poem can go through many revisions before it is deemed finished.
      My parents have been gone for over 15 years. My oldest brother died a few years ago, but all my other five siblings are still going strong, though all are older than me. But we are all old and getting older every day…
      It was good to hear from you! Thank you so much for stopping by and commenting.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I can say the same thing regarding you. You are an amazing chef, Diane! And your posts are not only informative, but are engaging as well.
      We all have our gifts…sadly, some people never find their niche, their passion.

      Liked by 1 person

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