It happened on September 8th,- a day
That celebrates our Blessed Mother’s birth,
That our earthly mother passed away,
As swallows do, that leave their nest and berth.

I wondered why she held this feast so dear,
Why, ’mongst the Marian Feasts she liked it best?,
Though there were quite a view within the year,
My mother did prefer it over the rest.

She loved this feast of Our Lady so,
And sang the fitting Marian Liturgy,
And walking in the kitchen to and fro,
Verse came to her on wings for poetry.



My mother sang! - her golden Alto filled
Cathedrals and the concert gallery,
While father sat, admiring and thrilled
With us - with pride, - so very well sang she.

“Keep quiet, -mother sings- hush, hush be still!”
She looks to the conductor with baton,
And Mozart’s Ave Verum now would fill,
The sanctuary with compelling.. tone.

Franz Schubert she sang at my cradle, then,
While rocking, humming, - ah so tenderly,
Reached for the nearest pencil or a pen,
To quickly jot down lines of poetry.

Without reserve, she gave herself entirely,
With love and with devotion without bounds,
A living song, incarnate poetry,
A ringing chime of verse and music sounds

Her yellowed manuscript - a treasure trove;
Created among many a household chore,-
Creased, hand-writ sheets, revealing so much love,
That God - I pray - to rescue and restore!



She sang a folksy tune: “The Swallows leave,
September 8th, for better an abode,
So say good-bye to them, but do not grieve,
For they are cared for evermore by God!”

September 8th, our dearest mother lay,
A-bed so beautifully and so sweet,
Our Lady’s birth,- a swallow flew away,
Her so beloved celestial queen to meet.