Sunday, May 11, 2008

A Mother’s Day Sonnet

So often friends will come and say to me,
“This wife of yours – a Nobel Prize is hers.
If not, then surely sainthood it would be,
For it is seven children that she serves.”

I sometimes laugh it off at her expense.
I tease them, “No, is not as it may seem.
No thing gets done; home school does not commence.
The house is such a mess I want to scream.”

But truth be told the words they speak are sound.
This woman, mother, lover, friend, and wife
Does work her wonder making love abound
and brings to bloom in this fair home sweet life.

On Mother’s Day to her I give my love
And that she’s here a thanks to God above.

3 comments:

Jim & Laurel said...

Maybe your gift to her should be, this year, to clean up all "Big Messes" for a week. Wow! What a treat that would be. Hope she isn't cleaning up vomit on Mother's Day.

:) :) :)

Anna Maupin said...

The English teacher in me gives you an A for your sonnet!

Shakespeare would be proud! : )

Anna M.

Andrea said...

Thanks for sharing. What a beauitful Mother's Day poem