I remember once when I was a child
I skinned my left knee and mom called it mild.
There was a moment there when I wondered
when life was lucky when then I wandered.
I could run through fences, bouncing off walls
by night’s end her love would fix my pratfalls.
I remember with every scream, my tantrums
soft her eyes welled, her sweet patience, like strums
on chords of melody singing the blues.
I would today relish assured reviews
contained in her strength, drawn by her own love
that now gives comfort, surreal above.
Our lives are modeled as her heart welcomes;
Delight in our elegant beautiful Moms.