Sunday 3 April 2011

Mothering Sunday

For all the things I didn't say,

About how I felt along the way,

For the love you gave and the work you've done,

Here's appreciation from your admiring son.

You cared for me as a little tot,

When all I did was cry a lot,

And as I grew your work did too,

I ran and fell and got black and blue,

I grew some more and it didn't cease,

Now you had to become the police,

To worry about mistakes I'd make;

You kept me in line for my own sake.

I got older, and the story repeated;

You were always there whenever I needed.

You guided me and wished me the best,

I became wiser and knew I was blessed.

So, for all the times I didn't say,

The love I felt for you each day,

Mum, read this so you can always see

Just how much you mean to me.


To my dear Ma - thanks for everything!

2 comments:

miruspeg said...

Mike are you buttering up your dear old Ma so you can ask for a loan or even a hand-out?
Thought I would give a little cheek back to you.

Actually it is a beezer of a poem Mike. A lovely poem for Mother's Day.

Peg xxxxx

Mike Smith said...

Peggy! Me? Buttering up? As if!

By the way Ma, if you read this may I have steak for tea on Tuesday? And about that £500 I need...

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