Neither have I silver nor gold
Surely know I have soul
With less dismay but bold
I'll let wild out my goal

This would be a resource manual
To rate thy giver to earth
This would be a great trial
To the eves of the earth

Nine rounds of thirty day's understatement
Every round of two hundred and seventy
Days would suit the statement
No merry, no joy but groan plenty

Out of the mind, I'll boldly write
To the eves of the nation
Against the serpent we'll fight
To appease man of creation

Sounds the voice of the traitor
"Take and be unveilely wise"
"where're you" is the voice of the creator
"We're naked" false wisdom in his eyes rise

Forgive us father, suit all mothers
That groan, strive'll be less
At the giving stage. No bothers
Of crucial bitterness but happiness

Oh God, see the folks through
Whom absence is their  mother
Know I you are thee true
To present their mind with no bother

Their minds fill with love
Their souls fill with strong aim
That they'll not renege. Above
All, affable care, give to them

Was I to earth by great woman
Ebony black, one'f  her feutures
Ago, now aged, by her man
Yeah, you'll confirm by pictures

Either have I soul, mind or hand
I'll celebrate mothers in no dismay
Present, past, to show thee love in kind
To thee all, blessed  mothers day