A Mother is an
endless source,
Of love mixed
with true grit...
Multitasking is
her job,
She's qualified
for it.
She holds each
child that calls her Mom,
In
very special place...
Takes time for
each as she bestows,
A kiss on
upturned face.
She is all
things as we grow up,
Sees to
our every need...
Made of steel,
tempered with love,
That wraps
her every deed.
For years she
gives just of herself,
Nurtures us as
we grow...
For us the years
pass quickly,
For her, no
doubt move slow.
Yet far too
soon, the house is quiet,
The children
grown and gone...
The memories are
what remain,
Like words of
haunting song.
A mother's
reward sometimes comes late,
But she can take
great pride...
In later years,
when we are grown,
Stand proudly at
her side.
(c)
05/07/08 Loree (Mason) O'Neil
Midi
playing is: Five Red Roses
