My Mother |
| by Melton Culberth |
On April the 6th,
Nineteen hundred twenty five,
Was the day she was born.
The first day my mother cried.
You raised us kids
And always lived right.
We were safe and warm,
Before you slept each night.
You worked hard
All through your life
As a friend, a mother,
And a faithful wife.
You weren’t rich, or poor
Or even famous.
But you did your best
And always loved us.
Life’s not easy
Nor is it fair.
Now you’re older
With gray in your hair.
You have always cared,
And done for others.
So here’s a salute,
To my Mother.
***
Mom made the days bright and happy,
And the sun shone all around.
She made everything cheerful, and on her face
Was a sweet peaceful smile.
On March the 3rd life was not so kind
And dark clouds of death gathered.
But her love brought us days of comfort and joy,
And her life made it all worthwhile.
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(c) 1999 Melton Culberth Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
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