An Elegy for Dear Mother

Dear Mother—I longed for your love:
so when you passed away I wept;
as your spirit rose up above
my stinging tears, which were inept,
flowed as we began to remove
your cold, silent corpse as it slept—.

Days passed—they gathered for your wake,
a soothing time that was not sad
or grave as they tried for my sake
to pay their respects and seem glad:
as you laid there (to never take
a breath again), I could’ve gone mad!

The hour arrived—the funeral
took place on a cold, winter morn
as if dream-like, strange and surreal.
Distraught, I felt bereaved and torn
as the last rites and burial
made me shrill with grief from Death’s scorn—.

–Ngoc Nguyen

https://www.poetrysoup.com/me/poembender

Attar of Roses and Lavender

Like lavender and red roses,
they’re meant for your lovely sweethearts
and their fine, delicate noses;

not to sting the most sensitive parts
or overwhelm the olfactory senses,
daub with the finesse of the fine arts

as love’s a game of great consequences:
love decides on the whiff of a scent,
so smell good or lead to offenses!

Too much scent is gross and indecent;
a little on the neck and the wrist’s
enough to smell seductively fragrant:

so don’t overwhelm like a face against a fist;
by now I’m sure you more than get the gist!

–Ngoc Nguyen

https://www.poetrysoup.com/me/poembender