IN MY MOTHER'S ARMS

IN MY MOTHER'S ARMS

I don't remember the very early years
of being held through all of my sad tears,
but I am quite sure that mother was there,
with understanding and her loving care.

I was the last-born of nine and unexpected,
yet I have never felt even a bit neglected.
Life back then was sometimes bittersweet,
there were times we were faced with defeat.

Growing up years in the great Depression,
soon had taught each of us a good lesson.
Each of us kids had to pull our own weight,
for the war and hardships became our fate.

My mother scrubbed floors to earn enough
to buy some food, as times were very tough.
We had a small garden to plant and weed,
The boys hunted deer, for there was need.

We ate the chickens much too old to lay,
and I remember corn meal mush every day.
Rabbit stew and some fresh picked corn
was a real special treat on a Sunday morn.

The men worked down in the copper mine,
yet somehow they always found the time
to share a laugh and keep our spirits high,
all too soon we had to bid them goodbye.

It was wartime and then another brother
said goodbye to our Dad and our Mother.
We all survived, grew up, made our mark
in a world that was not so cold and dark.

Life changed for all of us and days gone by
have only brought a tear to this aging eye.
I'd give up all I have, complete with charms,
for just another day, in my mother's arms.

Countrymom
4/26/10