Mood:  happy

Far away and long ago a mother's heart so true, lest she forgot the merriment t’was in her eyes so blue.
A mother blonde and blue of eyes, so fair her skin was then, but now her flesh is gone from here and won’t come back again.
She was cool and so aloof that no one bid her down, she needed no one but her children, for them she came around.
She traveled life a lonely soul surrounded by a crowd, she was beautiful and one could see she was so very proud.

One day we talked and then she cried for she thought my love was lost; my dream was that she came to me and gave my head a toss.

Who would know the love I had inside my garish soul, only she could ever see this part of me so bold.
A child is but an image of the blood that bore her flesh, and in her image we pass the blood that we bare and we caress.
Our children come to us as we have come to them, yet every child is different and each one, a loving gem.
Pass not our merry lives away without yielding to our discontent; show your love in every way and give your Mom her compliment.

By: JvS © 2002

Gilda Schaal All Rights Reserved