Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE MOTHER, by BERTON BRALEY



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THE MOTHER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Sure, an' I'm waitin' to hear
Last Line: Thinkin' how glad I'll be whin he comes home!
Subject(s): Mothers


SURE, an' I'm waitin' to hear but the step av him,
Him that's been gone from us year afther year,
He will come back like the picture I've kep' av him
Smilin' an' gay wid his mirth an' his cheer.
Thrue, they are sayin' it's death that has taken him
But I know betther that knew him so well,
An' it's meself will be huggin' an' shakin' him,
Whin he comes back wid fine sthories to tell.

Whin the wind whistles I think it's the thrill av him
--That was the way he would do whin he came,--
Why do you sit there an' talkin' so ill av him,
Sayin' he's dead? It shud fill ye wid shame;
Yes, I remimber him lyin' here stilly-like,
But he was foolin' ye, women an' men,
"Twas but a prank av him, foolish an' silly-like,
Sure, he'll be back to his mother again.

Whin the door rattles I think, "'Tis the hand av him
Feelin' around fer the latch in the dark,
Whin he comes in I'll be cross an' demand av him
Why he stayed our so late havin' a lark."
So, all the time I am harkin' an' listenin',
Hearin' each step an' each sound in the gloam,
Sure, me old eyes wid the tear drops are glistenin'
Thinkin' how glad I'll be whin he comes home!








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