Hail Bravehearts
With thanks, we give praises to this special day. To the finest, the most wonderful, the dreamiest and the most courageous. Thanks to all of you, you special mothers. This is the day to celebrate you. Beautiful you. Oh wonderful you.
The patches on my jeans, the warm woolly sweater, the cozy knit blanket, the floral arrangement and the pie. I just love pie! Fresh berries from the garden, homemade jam and apple pie, cookies in the cookie jar, and roast beef in the oven. The smells of home and cooking, perfume is in the air. We always know where mother is, her hand is everywhere.
Shops full of shopping, restaurants galore, our home and closets, rival those, with skills we all adore. Homemade ornaments for the Christmas tree, new recipes to try. Our budget is the windfall of dollars set aside. The beauticians all know us, we frequent their abode, to cut and curl and streak our hair, for parties, gatherings and potlucks for the road. Glamour is our style, we wear the trendiest designs. Our look is always current, from our latest shopping spree. We look so bedazzling, we rival the Christmas tree.
Polished nails and body wraps, massage and yoga tights. Our bodies are our temples, fit, sleek and just right. No attitude of worry, fret or fear to linger. We always are most charming, with smiles, hugs and cheer. Be proud of us, we are mighty, the hand that rocks the cradle. Great gifts to those we love, are given, as much as we are able. To raise a child is easy, just always look your best. A child is a delight to us, from heaven, the stork, or wherever babies come from. Just make them all some pie, serve them some desert, after all, you are their mother, you always know best.
Little einstein is a wonder child, after all, he comes from you. The family fortune just increased, with achievements, success and medals. Keeping spirits up and enthusiasm high, is just another moment. Sweet encouragement spills from your lips as easy as breathing a name.
The sun will shine, the birds will sing, the day will bring you flowers, for all of us have just one thing in common, we all have come from mothers. The day grows long, the life is dear, it’s poetry in motion. To watch or mothers make our beds and tuck us under the covers. Sweet dreams of childhood, blessings dear, those days in hug wrapped comfort. To be spoiled with love and kindness, is to have a mother.
Joy is the word, on this special day. For kindness, love and giving, is the way, mothers earn a living. Blessings are the children, they are always joy and pride. A family with good intentions, will stay together and survive. A mother is a beauty, she smiles and welcomes us home. This comforting place of human space, is the nurturing place called home.
written by Dr. Louise Hayes
May 14, 2017
