The real heaven my mommy.

Mommy, I love you

More than you see.

You have always been there

When I needed you to be.

I know I don't show

How great my love is,

But I need you to know

All the love of you I have to give.

I wish there was more

For you I could do,

But all I can say

Is how much I love you.

It is deeper than the oceans,

Higher than the sun.

I could shout it forever

And still not be done.

Your smile is a keepsake.

I keep close to my heart

That I open up and treasure

When we are apart.

I know it's been a hard task,

the things we ask of you.

You should know you're very special

for all the things you do.

I'm thankful for a wife like you;

no one could take your place.

A heart like yours for those in need

is a thing one can't replace.

So thanks again for being there

and for all the things you do.

No man could be so lucky

to have a love like you!

Happy Mother's Day!

Let my eyes be massaged by your beauty.

Let my heart be warmed by your smile.

Let my ears always hear that you love me.

Let my lips kiss yours for a while.

Let my arms hold you close when you're sad.

Let my hugs make you warm when you're cold.

Let my love last as long as forever.

That way we will never grow old.

Let me promise you'll never be lonely.

Let me promise to always be true,

Please let me by happy for the rest of my life,

When I ask you, please say, "I do."

Her hands held me gently from the day I took my first breath.

Her hands helped to guide me as I took my first step.

Her hands held me close when the tears would start to fall.

Her hands were quick to show me that she would take care of it all.

Her hands were there to brush my hair, or straighten a wayward bow.

Her hands were often there to comfort the hurts that didn't always show.

Her hands helped hold the stars in place, and encouraged me to reach.

Her hands would clap and cheer and praise when I captured them at length.

Her hands would also push me, though not down or in harm's way.

Her hands would punctuate the words, just do what I say.

Her hands sometimes had to discipline, to help bend this young tree.

Her hands would shape and mold me into all she knew I could be.

Her hands are now twisting with age and years of work,

Her hand now needs my gentle touch to rub away the hurt.

Her hands are more beautiful than anything can be.

Her hands are the reason I am me.

Sometimes I know the words to say to give thanks for all you've done,

but then they fly up and away as quickly as they come.

How could I possibly thank you enough, the one who makes me whole,