On this sweet day, as children laugh and play,
At times nearby, content beneath your gaze,
And others, roaming wide and far away;
While memory drifts through time’s obscuring haze.
Such moments bring a comfort, warm and deep,
Your heart afire with love’s enduring  flame—
To stir the soul until you softly weep,
Still musing on a dear and cherished name.
The labors borne through love and sacrifice
Live on in those you’ve raised to bloom and grow;
These dreams are gold—beyond all earthly price,
That wealth of heart that only mothers know;
A mother’s love is love beyond compare—
The sweetest flower grown in heavens’ air.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.