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
 
 

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