God gave me a mother
With warmth in her smile.
He said, "I will leave her
With you for a while."
She'll be young and handsome
At least for a day.
Her hair will be dark.
Her laughter be gay.
Her step will be sturdy.
She'll walk straight and tall.
I'll make her touch gentle.
She'll be at your call.
Her arms will enfold you.
Her strength will be yours.
Her love will enfold you.....
In your childhood hours.
But one day the Mother
Will no longer be...
The handsome young woman
The child used to see.
Her face shall grow time worn.
The eyes shall grow dim.
Her strength will start failing.
She's slower of limb.
The strong tender hands
That soothed o'er your brow
Have grown gnarled and crippled.
She's more tired now.
Soon you'll be her comfort.
She'll lean upon you.
Please carry her gently.
She grew old for you.
She wept with your weeping.
She smiled with your smiles.
She guarded you always
Through life with it's trials.
She bore all your burdens.
Was always concerned.
Don't weep when I call her
To rest she has earned.
Copyright © 1998 Carol Bouche' Ottlinger