As Mother’s Day has just passed, I have been reading a few mother related poems and this one really stood out. I love the imagery that reminds me of many mothers I know, all over the world, who toil and nurture in equal measure.
Love and respect to all Mothers, we’d be nowhere without you. Thank you especially to my own wonderful Mum who is an unending source of strength, baking and inspirationx
Song of the Old Mother - William Butler Yeats (1899)
I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow
Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow;
And then I must scrub and bake and sweep
Till stars are beginning to blink and peep;
And the young lie long and dream in their bed
Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head,
And their days go over in idleness,
And they sigh if the wind but lift a tress:
While I must work because I am old,
And the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold.