articles about the mother by gwendolyn brooks

To the mirror with her comb and lipstick. She made the babies sit in their places at the table. With terrifying clarity was that her composition The one thing in the world that she did know and knew So much had happened, she could not remember now what that foe had doneĪgainst her, or if anything had been done. With his heavy companion to hack down (unhorsed) Mature solidness whose lack, in the Dark Villain, was impressing her,Ĭonfronting her more and more as this first day after the trial Rushing (rich with the breadth and height and

Ridiculous in the picture of the Fine Prince It occurred to her that there may have been something

That the trouble with grown-ups was that under the magnificent shell of adulthood, just under, Grown-ups were supposed to be wise.Īnd the Fine Prince-and that other-so tall, so broad, so Of fourteen, with eyes still too young to be dirty,Īnd a mouth too young to have lost every reminder When the Dark Villain was a blackish child The fun was disturbed, then all but nullified With the bones of many eaten knights and princesses. When his menace possessed undisputed breadth, undisputed height,Īnd best of all, when history was cluttered The hacking down of a villain was more fun to think about But there was something about the matter of the Dark Villain. Hastened to hide it in the step-on can, andĭrew more strips from the meat case. Herself: the milk-white maid, the 'maid mild'īy the Dark Villain. Understood-the ballads they had set her to, in school. Like the four-line stanzas of the ballads she had never quite It had the blood.Ī wildness cut up, and tied in little bunches,

Articles about the mother by gwendolyn brooks