The Good Mother

The Good Mother
Grubby hands
Soiled or spoiled
Reach and grab
The Good Mother
Will Understand
She can smother
Her love is interwoven
With smiles
And a clean slate
If needed
Always there
The Good Mother
She can break
On a lifetime of forgiveness
Still she gives this
Her all
Her Fall
The grey that gathers
In long awaited dawns
Spawns no hate
It stays, in place
Even Precariously footed
Devotedly rooted
The Good Mother
Didn’t choose
How the cards will lay
She plays her hand
Even in Loss
She is Mother
God lays His hand
Upon her head
While Angels follow
As her prayers are said
The Good Mother
Is sometimes less
She fails or triumphs
As Fortune’s guest
She has no handbook
She learns
As she loves
A Life sometimes broken
She learns to look up
Those prayers softly spoken
For inspiration
And the divine
The Good Mother
If blessed
Knows she Will have time
She is proudly resistant
She tries not to fail
Hopefully Persistent
She knows….
She is the glue
That’s keeps a family together
Love is a gift, infinite
This is Especially true
When a Mother has children
Like I do

Posted By PastelPoetry from WordPress


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