I do believe that mother’s love
Was modelled after you.
It is the only way,
Your love could be so true.

For I have never witnessed a
Love with such little hesitation,
Shampoo in the eye,
A cut on the knee,
Mother is at my station.

And my home is always carried with you,
With the memories of your voice,
Singing lullabies and soothing my blues.
And with the smell of borrowed clothes and
Everlasting perfume.

I’m desperate to thank you, mother,
For all that you do
And have done.
And in my journey to show gratitude,
I have only just begun.