A Mother Who Didn’t Play | Contest by, @prydefoltz
Growing up on Bay Street was not always easy
I had a mother named Callie Mae who just didn’t play
Strong-willed was she, heads she bumped with me
She popped the whip if I gave her any lip
Fresh food from her garden we always ate
Never eating fast food, just what she would bake
Fruit cakes for Christmas she always sold
The neighbors came running with their bank rolls
Around the heater we all stood
Trying to stay warm and live in the hood
Hot chocolate and peanuts I remember we ate
Seven children to dress and we were never late
I remember my mother just pressing my hair
As tears came streaming, she said “don’t you dare!”
I had a mother name Callie Mae who just didn’t play
I could not figure out how to get my way
Missing church on Sundays was not an option
Hiding your shoes did not get you excused
If you caught a whooping, you had to go get your own switch
If you ran away from home...you could not stay long
My mother told me that I had to stay in school
Until my eighteenth birthday I had to keep all the rules
At midnight I waited to go see what I was missing
Heartaches and promises and empty kisses
Thank God, I had a mother who did not play
Who taught me about Jesus and what to say
Soon I would pray and thank the Lord
That He sent me a mother name Callie Mae
Who loved me dearly and did not play!
Original poetry by, @pyemoney.
Original Family Photos created using the PhotoFunia App
Creative Ideas in Living Color
I love the nostalgic tone of your poem. These memories of childhood passed in a climate of authoritarianism necessary for the time. That's how she raised you and then you raised her. Chain that had been reproduced from generation to generation until these times when the patterns reversed, for better or for worse. I observe the repetition of the expression: "She did not play" and I feel that it reveals a line of thought. Is he playing badly? Play irresponsible? Are you playing immature? Is playing a privilege? The truth is that she "did not play" and established a pattern in the psyche of the voice, when she was a child and asked ... Did not the voice, as a mother, play?
Good job, I congratulate your creative art, @pyemoney.
Certainly, we love our parents more once we are old enough (or perhaps having children of our own already ) to know better.
I had a great time reading this piece, @pyemoney. It has some of an elegy and some of an ode, and sure a lot of love.
Thanks for sharing! ♥
If a parent whipped a child today and the child told a teacher, then the authorities would be called to do an investigation. It's strange how our customs and upbringing are different in today's world. I received a few whippings in my day and I am grateful that I survived them. They were definitely a deterrent against bad behavior.
Yes, @jluvs2fly, the times have certainly changed. In many households today the children run the house.
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