My Mum


When I was wearing baby clothes
My Mum would smile and wipe my nose
But if I tried to suck my thumb
She’d come by and scite my bum,
And later when I went to school
She made me use the Golden Rule
Learn to know what’s right or wrong
Give and take, and get along,
But we both knew the time would come
When I’d do my thing and beat my drum
She’d listen to what I’d propose
Then help me down the path I chose,
And though she gave me all her love
I know she prayed to God above
That I’d walk the line and see the light
But still she’d lay and fret all night,
Mama, Mommy – mentor – Mother
Compared to her – there is no other
She’s my friend – my pal – my chum
But most of all … she’s my Mum!

   D.C. Butterfield

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