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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1154300-Hen-and-Chickadees
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1154300
My mother used to call my twin brother and I her "chickadees".
A tiny baby boy was born,
in Montreal, in a building tall.
And what a sight it was to see
that slimey he should be and small.
But shocking more it was to she,
that gave to he, a life to lead
that coming in she'd bring forth one
then 'nother son and leave in three.

Thus in her arms she craddled two,
a pair of twins through days of spring
They stared at her adoringly
so lovingly with silly grins.

With gentle smile and touch of lips,
she kissed their heads and laid in beds
the tired two who grew up fast
and then at last she turned and said:
"What a woe and tragedy,
these children brought to mom who taught
them to be free, to talk and laugh
about the path that they have sought."

For this advice their mother gave,
right from the start, they took to heart.
Boundaries they saw and waived,
the roads were paved and blown apart.

To church she brought them speedily
without delay, in hopes that they
would learn a few small curtosies
their life would ease; if they changed their way.
Their thoughts were touched and lives were swayed
from church's spell, they could not tell
and they turned sharp from selfishness,
from wickedness that leads to hell.

Yet destiny would not conceed
that these new souls should be controled.
And bible verse-cum-villany
its tyranny they'd not behold

Across their home their feet have trod
without disdain through love and pain.
Never would they leave their quest
to put to test what they were made.
But ever deep within their core
their hearts keep near their mother dear.
Through trials and triumphs they explore
Forevermore, nothing to fear.
© Copyright 2006 Samuel Thomson (tosaha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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