Mother, My Mother

There is but one Mother, My Mother;
So Pure, so Perfect, there could be no other.
I cannot bear the thought of ever losing you,
For all, and I mean All, that you do.

You are so Essential to my life;
Stand by to Calm all my Strife;
To this End, you make every Sacrifice;
There is no one else So Beautiful, So Nice.

All the Archangels will Never reach your Height,
For here on earth, all the Battles you do Fight.
You are always, I repeat Always at my side;
You are forever present as my guide.

The Rose is only a Beauty, just a Glimmer
Of the Magnificence of your inner Core.
The thorns on your otherwise fragile Stalk
Represent the Hurt that you so often Balk.

You are my Mom; You gave me the World
And as the Years go by, I too grow old;
I know your Sacrifices, to Assure that I am well;
My Love and Appreciation, no words could ever tell.

by Stuart David Smith BSc.

Other poems of STUART DAVID SMITH BSC. (2)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.