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My Mum The Oracle ©

(A Ballad)

Thomas Matthew Edgar
Melbourne, Australia

She quoted many little homilies
peppered with a few anomalies,
expecting me to fully swallow these
when I was feeling low.
Misquoting bards with gay abandon
as long as she could simply land on
a word to help me grow.

The bards immortal, would surely chortle
to hear Mum cite their works.
I'm certain out beyond the grave
they'd have a few quiet smirks.
If only I could hear again
those mixtures metaphorical,
Mum's rendition of basic truths
profoundly allegorical.

McGonagall, that misfit poet,
if only he should ever know it
was matched by Mum, if I may quote,
a gem like this below.
"The mair ye greet, the less you'll pee!"
are words my mother said to me
when I was maybe two, or three;
or so she told me so.

When Jehovah's prayer is being reviewed
in the heavenly almanac,
be sure my Mother's been at work
if it's slightly out of whack.
It may not sway, this dismal day
from its destined fateful path;
but if Mum's had her way,
I can positively say
we'll at least have a bloody good laugh!

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