My Mother’s Child

Lighthouse at St. Augustine, Florida – April 2017

I am my mother’s child;
Filled with thoughts and dreams
Of climbing trees, galloping horses, sailing ships;
Adventures of the mind, expressions of my soul.

I am my mother’s child;
Filled with thoughts and dreams
Of windswept beaches, castles,
Places in my mind.

I am my mother’s child;
Dressed in pink;
Told not to dream
Or think or act, or be too much.

I am my mother’s child
Cast out, left out, put out.

I am my mother’s child
Filled with thoughts and memories
Of moonlight rides on galloping horses,
Midday lunches on sailing ships;

I am my mother’s child;
Filled with thoughts and memories,
Of windswept beaches, castles,
Places I’ve been.

I am my mother’s child;
Dressed in purple;
Dreaming, being, thinking,
Acting, envisioning more.

Drawn in, brought in, invited in;
I am no longer my mother’s child.

*******
Jo Anne
March 2017 – St. Augustine

Published by creoleana

Currently as Associate Professor of English Emerita my focus remains committed to scholarship within a multimodal / multicultural context. My ongoing research projects are The Virtual Caribbean Library and the Lost Voices, Forgotten Voyages projects; both centered on digital representations of the Caribbean within a digital humanities context. View all posts by creoleana