Mothers Day
Making A Child Doesn’t Make You A Parent
You outraced me on foot when I was but six
And when I was older I teased of a fix
You taught proper English, no slang in the deal
Our arms off the table, you served us our meal
We all had a part for the gray on your head
Since dad was at war we ignored what you said
We brats were “your reason,” you spoke of the joy
Today I’m still proud that you called me your boy
We all take for granted our mothers so dear
But after they’re gone only memories are here
What saddens me most you weren’t able to stay
Your grandson was born after you passed away
Now if “Roses are red and violets are blue”
The red speaks of love, the blue speaks of you
Just now I’m reminded as I’m hitting “send”
You weren’t just my mother, but also my friend
About the Creator
Earl W. Pearl
I’ve been writing poetry (rhyming mostly) since about 2014 and have recently transitioned to writing novels and short stories. My poetry genres are faith, humor, social issues, politics, pretty much any subject matter.
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Comments (1)
Let’s try this again- Beautiful! Love this tribute, Earl! 💫
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