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| My Mother Small of frame, A giant of heart. She cared for her family From the day of its start. My mother worked so hard each day In a time long ago, When family was the word And in and out they would flow. Basics were the only thing Those times had to share. Wealth was for the very few, But my mother didn't seem to care. The first thing in the morning We children were the prime, And while at school we never knew She was working all the time. Mothers deserve more credit As they prioritize their day. My mother put everything Before herself and play, And for her trouble long ago She was called to leave us young, A loss of love so dear, My mother was an angel, her legacy unsung. |
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| Copywrited Poetry of George C.Clements |
| My Father My father was a mariner Whose work was on the sea. He traveled to far off places That I will never see. I wonder if he was lonely On the treks he had to make? But he went forth anyway, For his families sake. He brought home gifts From other lands. We children were so proud, Because our father was so grand. The only gift my mother wanted Was to hold him in her arms, Where once again as before, She held his mighty charms. I didn't have my father long, He was taken very young, But he left me a legacy Of memories and adventures to be sung. |
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| Poetry Index |
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