Sort:  

When we are children, we do not appreciate that the firm hand of a mother is love. It is the road to good values.

Yes, so true.

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.

Thank you, @zeleiracordero for your detailed feedback.

Hi, @pyemoney.
Loved reading your poem. Here's my comment on your post:

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! ♥

I upvoted the post already and will upvote this comment when it bumps up (ASAP)

I am glad you enjoyed it, @marlyncabrera. Thanks for the kind feedback.

Coin Marketplace

STEEM 0.26
TRX 0.26
JST 0.039
BTC 94483.51
ETH 3348.38
USDT 1.00
SBD 3.29