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For Mother
J. Scott Smith
With heavy heart and pen in hand
I recall yesterdays long past:
When days were long and filled with fun
And the nights drew on too fast;
When summers passed and seemed like years
And the sun was never too hot;
When winters came and changed the world
To the land that time forgot;
When spring arrived and nature thrived,
Released from the long, long freeze;
When fall was seen in every tree
And drifting on the breeze;
When broken bones and cuts and scrapes,
And tossled, tangled hair,
And dust and dirt from head to toe
Were standard playground fare;
When cars and trucks and boats and planes,
And a mind allowed to roam,
Could carry a small boy and his friends
Far away and then back home;
When every sight and every sound,
And smell and feeling, too,
And every morning's rising sun
Shed light on something new;
When cats and dogs and kittens and pups,
And a few things not so nice,
Were always as friendly as friends would be,
And sometimes even twice;
When every morning was 'roused from sleep
By the smell of a breakfast feast,
And every night was put to rest
With a repast not the least;
When ills that haunt the winter months
Would come to make their stay,
And love and care and chicken soup
Would drive them all away;
When every night it was required
To brush and wash and pray,
And a prayer would find it's way to heaven
For another hour to play:
For every crisis and every care,
And all the little fears;
For every moment filled with doubt,
And all the painful tears;
For every discovery and every find
That revealed something new;
For every laugh and every joy
And every new inch, too;
For every time I asked for food
And found my hunger gone;
For every monster in the night
We watched for till the dawn:
For each of these I remember you
And know there could be no other
Who could have helped me through as well as you,
And for this I love you, Mother.
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