My Mother, My Friend

Gentle and kind, and sweet and pure
A mother’s gifts with love she gave
Treasures and memories from the past
Tokens of beautiful moments that I save.

She gave me a  heart-felt poem
Words flowing from her heart,
Truth written in sweet innocence
Love and honesty turned to art.

She gave me a self painted portrait
Colorful oils brushed into place,
Of a lovely gracious woman
A delicate shyness on her sweet face.

She gave me a lifetime invitation
To visit her restful, peaceful home
To come and share blessed moments
When life’s problems left me all alone.

She reached out her wrinkled hand to me
To give in abundance, instead of take;
It seemed everyone else needed me,
But she gave love for my own sake.

Many wonderful friends I can count
Each day when dusk draws near,
But when I was sad and lonely
It was my mother who wiped my tears.

No greater or true r friend have I
In anyone whom I’ve known;
No greater joys and happiness in life
Can exceed the good my mother has done.

And when my Master calls to me,
To leave my sad cares behind;
From out of all my loving friends,
It is she who’ll rest my frightened mind…
My mother, my friend.

© 1990 Jeanette Cooper