Wednesday, July 03, 2013


She was
     And is
My most treasured memory,
Instilling all that is decent and good.
Gentle hands
     Gentle soul.
Gliding through life on gossamer wings.
Wise in her measure, she
Spoke without judgment,
Softly, quietly, never in anger,
Unless in defense of those she called
In which case she fought
With the heart of a lion.
Always near
     In spite of the distance,
Always dear
     To those she adored,
Playfully childlike
     Without being childish,
Quick with a smile
     Or a soft-spoken word.
Mothers are jewels,
Honored and precious.
Keep them forever.
You only get one.
Lulu Storefront: Plays:

No comments: