National Adult Literacy Database

February 19, 2007

The following poem was written by Lisa Conway, from Winnipeg, Manitoba. Lisa is enrolled at Open Doors Adult Literacy Program in Winnipeg. Writing this poem has given her great opportunity to tap into her creative side. Writing short stories has always been a passion of hers, ever since she was a little girl. Doing her Stage 3 in Literacy has given Lisa the knowledge of how to write poetry. This is something she has always wanted to try.

Mother Can Mean a Million Things

by Lisa Conway

Mother can mean a million things
To a child at hand
A single task
A smell
A coffee cup

I remember the sound of her feet
On the kitchen floor,
As she puttered around in the early morn
Putting polly on to boil;
Rolling her smoke,
Looking out her window at the grey world;
I've always wondered what she was thinking,
But never dared to ask.

I can hear polly whistle.
It's time for us to wake.
Mother is calling us for breakfast.
Now hurry, don't be late.
The school bell is about to ring.
I know you haven't eaten.
Hurry children; don't be late.

Mother can mean a million things
To a child at hand:
A memory
A song
A smile

Mother's song played over again, but
I never minded the trip down Copperhead Road.
The only song that tapped her toe,
That made a smile
On a child of woe.

Mother can mean a million things
To a child at hand:
A memory
A spoon
A day

Mother had a favorite pot
That made the best goulash.
The famous spoon she would leave in it,
For us to have the last.

The day she died
She took my past,
And made me the woman I've become.

For I always remember
Mother can mean a million things
To a child at hand:
A grandma
An aunt
A friend

[This poem was taken with permission, from Write On!, Spring/Summer 2006, published by LPM.]