MY MOTHER

in #poem7 years ago (edited)

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Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
My Mother?

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spare
I hope I shall reward they care,
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old and grey,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.

By: Ann Taylor

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I came across it while combing through my old stuff.
And after reading it over and over again, it's wording dawned on me, that, no better love is found elsewhere in this world compared to the love of a mother and that of God.
So Felt the need to post it, perhaps it peels off old wounds and reconnect us to something grater.

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