With patient hands, and caring heart,
a mother's love was shown
in the tender, stubborn saplings,
she loved enough to grow.
She listened to their tearful woes,
she kissed their hurts away;
She offered up the best advice
and tried to show the way.
She taught them well,
and scolded when they failed;
She laughed with them and played with them
and watched them blaze a trail.
She let them fall, she let them choose,
she watched them from the dark;
for a mother's greatest heartache
is watching them depart.
If not for the strength of mothers,
if not for their watchful eyes
the saplings would have shriveled,
curled up,
and died.
So here is to the mothers.
the ones that try their best;
know that we saplings love you,
to this we can attest.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
With patient hands, and caring heart,
a mother's love was shown
in the tender, stubborn saplings,
she loved enough to grow.
She listened to their tearful woes,
she kissed their hurts away;
She offered up the best advice
and tried to show the way.
She taught them well,
and scolded when they failed;
She laughed with them and played with them
and watched them blaze a trail.
She let them fall, she let them choose,
she watched them from the dark;
for a mother's greatest heartache
is watching them depart.
If not for the strength of mothers,
if not for their watchful eyes
the saplings would have shriveled,
curled up,
and died.
So here is to the mothers.
the ones that try their best;
know that we saplings love you,
to this we can attest.
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