
Maid
You see me now in youth and glory
You see me fresh and free of worry
Will future bliss be my ascension,
Or will my life just give me friction?
I stand here on the threshold wary
But who can say that life will tarry?
No, I must wait and pray and please
To find a friend, to live in ease
Mother
To each his own, and thus flows life through gentle vessel
Casket, critic, savage guardian, still gives quiet space to nestle
Gentle mirror of tradition, tutor too to help awaken
Triad’s triad ne’er forsaken
Ugly, Old, or poor and sickly, I can notably inspire
Young in beauty – rich in power, without reason, wouldn’t tire
Secrets shelter, secrets darken, secrets wither and conspire
Still, the circle has no ending – giving life but to expire
Matron
Now, looking back what did I hope for?
Now, all my life what did I grope for?
My life is blank,
My words are frank:
I did my share
But found no care
Now, what is left is an enigma
And still my age remains my stigma
Ye maids and mothers please beware
To set you right I must declare
That youth and age cannot compare
The end may force you to despair

Thank you Debi Ennis Binder for the inspiration for this poem. The middle part (Mother) I wrote in answer to a challenge she set me — re a riddle in her WIP.
© HMH, 2021
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