My Mother Sang to Me
Those days by the fire,
of the stove's warm desire,
laid a foundation of love and trust.
She'd sing a sweet song,
while cooking all day long,
joyfully doing what she must.
Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.
We were poor and in need,
but we were rich, indeed,
with mother's songs in the air.
When the cupboard was bare,
she taught us to share,
song filled our stomachs with care.
Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.
Wherever I roam,
thoughts take me home,
to that place that's so,
warm in my heart.
Where she sang a song,
leaving memories that,
never will part.
Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.
She's gone now to home,
but I still roam, remembering,
those good old days of song.
When mother sang to us,
making us trust,
that we were where we belong.
Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.
Copyright 2015 © Ronald W. Hull
11/12/15
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Lovliest of ladies is your mother. The songs instilled
in your heart.
Lady Mary Ann
Much peace, love and light,
Amber
I remember my mom humming songs while cooking I guess that's what's meant
When one says ummmm cooked with love..... Peace be with you
William
hug
Kathy
Regis
I love this warm glimpse into your own heart.
Connie
Love ya!
Jane
John
Your poem reminds me of the hours my mother would rock me on her lap and read stories to me.
As a child I would come
To sit on her knee when I was sick
To hear Faure's Berceuse
Before to bed I would go
It made me worship classical music