Vilma Poem by B. V. Dahlen

Vilma

A child who played on coal smudged hills,
Her Dad and brothers dug below,
Who’’s mother vainly battled coal
In every niche. That furtive foe

Defeated her. Her family moved.
She found her home on urban streets
Abiding near high rumbling trains
Who’’s jarring patterns were the beats

Of teenage angst, And dancing she
Would meet her groom of 60 years,
Soon start her family raise her boys,
Go on to conquer new frontiers.

A Mother proud with three strong sons,
Who often did the job alone,
Stern guardian of every need
Strong sponsor after they were grown.

He passion was inspiring.
Her mettle tough as binding wire.
Outspoken, often quarrelsome
She knew her mind and her desires.

Her home her rock and her refuge
Was left behind when aging beat
Their best attempt to stay, abide,
A move she took as her defeat.

Her spouse declined and left her side
To navigate these shoals alone,
And aging took it’’s bitter toll
On older flesh and ancient bone.

Ten decades she endured and lived.
She watched grandchildren grow pursue
Their callings, lives and families,
And bear her great grand children too.

And when at last her time was spent,
We gathered here to say goodbye
To mother, patron, rival, love.
That portion of us will not die.

She lives on in her family
In whom she found her joy and pride.
She lives within the hearts she touched,
And there forever she’ll abide.