My Mum
The smell of a mother is softness of heart.
Her role undefined, you always did your part.
Through the blood, barf, and through the many tears.
You were always there for me, through all the rough years.
You taught me to count and tie my own shoe.
And how to spell, I accredit it to you.
From wooden spoons to cookies we would bake.
From bad dreams and hand creams, all for loves sake.
I learned how to reap and I learned how to sow.
You led me up, into the way that I should go.
Your love, tears, and prayers I never could repay.
But you’ll always be my mother, and I promise you
Grandchildren, someday.