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Mother’s Day Ode to Hilda

For my Ma, Hilda


Battle axe or battle maid,

I’ve never seen you look afraid.

You taught us how to go for it,

Vaselined shoes, faces clean with spit.


So today I’d like to let you know,

You’ve set the foundations for the distance we’ll go.

So cheers, Madre, you pushy show-mom,

When I have kids, I’ll know where to come.





About iamlikeawednesday

With a stick of rock and deckchair in tow, I arrived from the sea-side three years ago. Being half mermaid, I’ve been dipping my tail into all things London. Including the Thames (not recommended). I like all things free, as the best things in life are, and will only leave a party or club at gunpoint. Come say hello! I’m the one dancing with the weirdo in stonewash denim, shouting “one more!” as the lights come up…

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