She nurtured them, she raised them to be strong

In difficult times. They learned their lessons well.

Through storm and strife, they learned to get along

When others doubted. How her heart does swell

To see who they’ve become. A mother’s love,

The strongest medicine, is all the cure

A growing mind needs. And too, confidence

Will carry her children on, she is sure.

Armed with an abundance of common sense,

They reflect all she has taught them and more

As they make way along life’s crooked mile

To peace and happiness. Neither keeps score,

But inside, their hearts find a way to smile.

As they find their way back to each other,

They knowingly give credit to their mother.

She was my hero once, she was my joy,

A mighty and an independent soul

Who brought comfort to a lost, flailing boy

Grown up too soon and struggling for control

Of a life out of sorts. I watched her bring

Sympathy and empathy in a time

Of desperate need, when such a simple thing

Seemed beyond the grasp of a confused mind

Shattered by events misunderstood, when

Nothing made sense. Her mature words were balm

To a family needing just that. And then

Bearings found, we all found a sense of calm.

Dear Nicki, you changed my life, this I know.

You’re with me now, and everywhere I go.

We dance in the night, you in scarlet sheath,

Bodies swaying, so close I feel your heart

Beat fast and faster, your sweet, fragrant breath

Lingers warm and inviting. Then we start

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A slow, passionate rhythm, to the beat

Of distant music drifting on the strand,

There for other lovers. In the fierce heat

Of a tropical night, you press your hand

Into mine, come to me insistent, we’re

Face to face, hips to hips, lips gently touch,

Whisper words that only hearts can hear.

The message clear, the urgency too much

To ignore, we fall together and give

In to the primal need for which we live.

I see her standing strong against the tide

Of fading memories that bring her, still,

Great moments of happiness. Can the ride

Into the future bring her one more thrill?

And one more? And one more? In quiet times

Alone what does she see, what does she think?

Can she find solace in a book of rhymes,

Words from Hunter’s mind, perhaps, or the plink

Of Jerry’s banjo, or the two combined

To make poetry she danced to at night?

Alone with her thoughts, a struggle while her mind

Whirls to music of her own making. Might

She find contentment living in the glow

Of the sweet memories she wants to know.

She was my hero once, she was my joy,

A mighty and an independent soul

Who brought comfort to a lost, flailing boy

Grown up too soon and struggling for control

Of a life out of sorts. I watched her bring

Sympathy and empathy in a time

Of desperate need, when such a simple thing

Seemed beyond the grasp of a confused mind

Shattered by events misunderstood, when

Nothing made sense. Her mature words were balm

To a family needing just that. And then

Bearings found, we all found a sense of calm.

Dear Nicki, you changed my life, this I know.

You’re with me now, and everywhere I go.

You cared for them, you’ve nurtured them it seems

For all our time together. It has been

Both joy and challenge. Your open heart teems

With love and empathy. One can’t begin

To comprehend the depth to which your love

Goes for those whose lives you’ve shaped, given skills

To navigate a crooked path. Above

All else you gave them strength to mount those hills

That stand between their place and lofty goals,

That present those obstacles in the way

Of success. You’ve helped them define their roles

As strong, wise, capable women today.

The fruits of those you’ve nurtured foreword go

And leave their mark—and yours—for all to know.

What is this thing that poisons all our hope,

That keeps us separated, leaves us ache

For human touch? We work so hard to cope

With the loneliness we endure. We make

Excuses to ourselves that we can deal

With the pain of isolation. We lie

To each other, pretending that we feel

As if this isn’t cause enough to cry

Out in desperation. To those we crave,

The pain of separation is acute.

We fool ourselves, pretending to be brave,

But longing for one touch is absolute.

The solitude we treasured for so long

Is overwhelmed by a need to belong