(taking a run at the rondeau form)
Grace Darlene Robbins, Star Maker
©2022 Susan Noyes Anderson
I was a shooting star, my mother said,
a force as bright and bold as sun and sea.
Mom's heart claimed me with joy and bits of dread––
her lightning bolt of untamed energy.
A pistol, locked but loaded, that was me.
Her friends were glad l was not theirs instead.
But she, delighted, raised me up with glee.
I was a shooting star, my mother said.
My training challenged her in years ahead.
A love for words began upon her knee.
I braved first grade at four to clear her head,
a force as bright and bold as sun and sea.
Mom managed to preserve her sanity
and savored me like butter on French bread.
My deeds brought her less shame than vanity.
Her heart claimed me with joy and bits of dread.
Mostly, I learned to follow where she led,
though Mother might dispute that history.
Yet, in the end she praised what she had bred:
her lightning bolt of untamed energy.
And I was but one child of five, you see,
which earns for Mom what some might call street cred.
For every one turned brilliant as could be.
Across her sky, each one of us was spread.
I was a shooting star, my mother said.
❤ MY MOM WAS MY FIRST AND BEST HERO. ❤
As your loved one describes you, so you are. –J. Winterson
My mother always said I was beautiful, and I finally believed her at some point.
–Lupita N'yongo
When you become a mother, you are no longer the center of your own universe.
You relinquish that position to your children. –Jessica Lange
My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it. –Mark Twain
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