Never On The Crack

My Dear Mother, Valerie

My Dear Mother, Valerie

Never on the Crack

Who’s to say, as we often played,
stepping on cracks
breaks Mama’s backs.  So we stayed –
inbetween –

inbetween – like Mama’s scrubbed floor
and her all day cooking.
So young was the Sun, its shine just begun –
inbetween –

So leisurely we played,
While London bridge merrily –
merrily –
fell down the stream.

inbetween, inbetween…
Did she ever know
the pains I took to show
that I loved her?

Life’s lines never change.
Except the good things.

– Years have gone by and still I must proclaim there is no greater love than that of a young boy for his mother…  My own mother instilled within me a certain sense of goodness, a love for all things of God.  Sadly, as I’ve grown and entered the world I have found so many others in life who are obviously not blessed with such a wonderful intensity as what mom presented to me.  In fact it seems the world is half filled with those who must have been reared in sheer hatefulness and resentment.  How incredibly sad I find this world, and how sad I feel for those who must not know the glory of a sunshine memory of a day when skipping a crack on the sidewalk was the proudest way a little boy could show his love for mom.

Childhood games and songs were so plentiful back then in the 60’s.  London Bridge, A pocket full of posies, Merrily, Merrily down the stream….  I’m not sure if today’s children would play them lest they put down their texting machines or gameboys long enough.  Nor if they would understand the meaning behind some of our childhood songs.  One favorite game of the girls and sisters I grew up with was “Hopscotch”, where a series of one or two boxes were outlined for about ten feet along the walk.  One would toss a pebble into the squares and then hop, skip, or jump to it according to the boxes.  It’s been so long I don’t remember the end or how the game was won.   But I remember all the players shouting loudly “Step on a crack – break your mamma’s back!”  whenever someone’s foot would land on a crack in the sidewalk.  To a boy of three or four that became gospel to me, and even today I still avoid cracks in the hopes that mamma will learn of my devotion to her….  For it is certainly endless – as is my fondness of this little memory…..  I hope you enjoyed it.

© 2013 John Richter


About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

3 responses to “Never On The Crack

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