An Ode to My Mother

I love my mother, as dear as she is.
It's hard to believe she once was a kid.

And then she grew up and then she had me
and then she got white hairs- as many as can be.

But I still love my mother, she's patient and kind
and she loves me (I think) most all of the time.

And sometimes we fail but the love still goes on.
And sometimes we have slushies out on the lawn.

I love when my mother sits down in her chair
and I climb on top and she plays with my hair.

And now that I'm bigger, I put her to sleep
(or at least her legs and my weight kills her feet).

She says I'm too bony and my hip bones are lead.
So she loves me and spanks me and sends me to bed.

But I just snuggle deeper (rebellious am I).
Sometimes I even curl up for a cry.

But she always has time and I always love having
that so special gift of my mommy's loving.

I'm sorry this poem is so bad to hear.
I wrote it too quickly. I'll start sooner next year.

Happy Mother's Day!