My Loving Mother
My Loving Mother, when I touch your hands
by J.C. Clayton
I touch the hand so love;
With your hands you picked cherries through the
Blistering hot day,
To help support a family of five with only a little pay.
My Loving Mother, when I look into your eyes,
I feel the compassion from your heart;
My Loving Mother, my room that you enter,
In that room, love instantly becomes the biggest part.
Early in life when our brother had to depart,
You held us all together,
Again, it was the power of love in your heart;
My Loving Mother, you made us understand that
Where he rest today,
Is the same place where the Angels pray.
My Loving Mother, as a child you made life seem
As if it were a story book,
But, Mother, in adult life-there is
Dissatisfaction in every direction you look.
Sometimes twenty people tell you how to color the world,
But then the burden becomes too heavy for this girl,
And as a child, life was so poor, yet - simple in that day;
I somehow wish we could all return in some way.