She raised her five children all alone
From dawn till dusk worked to the bone.
Never complained, nor shared her ills
Always paid her mounting bills.
Hot meals were served at dinner time
Desserts she baked were always fine.
Baked pies and cakes, homemade taffy too,
On Sunday, boiled dinners and sometimes stew.
Discipline was harsh as the children grew
Keeping them in line was all she could do.
One by one, they left the nest
To show the world their very best.
She sees in the mirror how time has escaped
Leaving her with white-cropped hair and wrinkled face.
In her heart she carries deep inside
The memories and scars of days gone by.
Today, in the house that we call home
Mother now lives all alone.
The bond we share like the umbilical cord
Could never be severed, ever more.
I dedicate this poem to my mother for all her unselfish ways,
this was written for her 79th birthday.
