I listen as she calls my name,
It slips and falls as soft as mane.
Her voice so sweet and none but tame,
And strong enough to fight all bane.

She steps so light into my space,
And glides her grace into a pace.
Her walk is noble and hard to face,
For she is mightier than even The Dace.

Contorted in worry, her face so glum.
When I am sick, she's none but numb.
My tears are streaks of painful grum,
'Cause if I'm not well, in sadness she dwells.

Love and care is all she gives,
If she's not there, then there's no being.
A greatness that shines through all that lives, she is...my mother.