Poem Hunter
GW (5/11/1947 / Kerrville, Texas, USA)


Poem By George Wootton

Mother, such a beautiful word just the sound brings a smile to my heart.
Just the thought of the word takes me back through the years by the memories that shall never depart.
Memories of an often rebellious child unknowing of her grief and pain,
unwilling to help ease her burdens and fears, harboring only thoughts of self gain.

How many times I must have broken her heart by the things I have said and done
and only God knows how my mother's love could survive for such an uncaring son.
I recall with sorrow what I put her through by my thoughtless and careless deeds
with hardly a thought of her love for me or of fulfilling my mother's needs.

Endless hours through nights and days she toiled to provide for me
a place to live, food to eat and many of my selfish greeds.
Through all the years of worry and want, through many an hour of despair
she never lost sight of her love for me, the son who seemed to not care.
She never lost hope that perhaps someday this boy would become a man
who would then realize that his mother's love through his success or failure would stand.

Now I am old and my children are grown and have all gone their separate ways
and I often compare the heartache I've known by that to which to my mother I gave.
Only now can I fully appreciate the sacrifice she gave
of her time and work and teaching and praying both night and day.

Mom, I just wanted to tell you that your efforts have not been in vain
for this boy has loved you always though at times I have caused you pain.
Your teaching has made me successful your encouragement has given me strength
your confidence in my abilities has driven me to greater lengths.

I pray I have passed on to my children at least some of what you have taught me,
to care for the welfare of others, be thoughtful of their feelings and needs.
And though I have seldom told you just how much you mean to me
I want you to know that I love you for not giving up on me.

Another year has come and gone and soon from this life we will pass
but I pray that someday when in heaven we stand forever our 'visit' will last.

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Comments (2)

Your mother knew how much you loved her. Mothers just do, especially with their sons because there is a special bond. A beautiful poem for your mother, George. Keep writing! Marilyn
thanks for acknowledging the pains and love of a mother to her sons/children..it's true that one could only understand the labor of parents when he/she becomes a parent himself/herself..a super 10.