Sunday Mother Sunday Poem by Karin Elizabeth Martin

I awake from a barely mussed bed,
visions of activities dance thru my head,
I tread down the stair, so lightly I creep
I remember some days
that were not mine to keep
days with burned eggs and flowers
with petals so sparce
smiles and cards, and noise all around
The coffee is gone, I forgot to buy more,
I should pay some bills but my wealth is few
I work thru the morning, plodding along,
with my smoking lawn mower that I coax along
My daughter goes out, to run an errand for me,
and when she returns, my worries are fading,
she is growing up, and brings things that have been waiting,
Along with the groceries, came a wonderful plant,
a card and a flower, and signed with good luck,
I speak with my mom, my friends and my foe
I get calls and messages to wish me good will
It's mothers day all and life is good
I may have no money or fancy clothes,
but I have a roof over me head and a yard to mow
trees to trim, fences to paint, laundry to do
and plans to make but I put my head down,
and begin to give thanks, I pray quietly, hunched over the sink,
I give thanks to GOD, for all the things others may not
I quietly praise to the heavens above
that I have those who love me, and those that I love
For all that is hurting, missing or gone
I am still grateful to have this day, to linger
and watch and dream on