Poetry submitted by C.F. Guyton, pictured here with his wife.

My Momma

My Momma, puts the “El” in “El Shabazz,”
The love in laughter and the joy in these lonely days of future’s past.
My Momma; the Hiroshima of Hell’s Kitchen.
Succulent entrees of deliciousness are served.
Incredible are her choice vegetables, and did I mention,
Exquisite is her cooking?

My Momma; sheer, pure goddess of glam,
Bountifully, beautiful, through nature’s span.
Water lilies, and yellow to golden daffodils perk.
Her grand stand.

My Momma; the Earth births, Fresh mountain air.
Cool breeze and crystal blue streams.
White sparkles everywhere.

My Momma; with her courage and devotion,
Holds the mighty strength of a thousand seas.
Smooth as cotton and a smile like silk.
Creative is her mind as well as sharp is her wit.

My Momma; a star to be remembered; A torch to keep lit.
A force to be reckoned with. The Soul that has ignited the heavens untold.

My Momma; because of you I’ve found it all the more,
Yet to simply be me.