Mothers hold your children closely
When good and corrupt seem to twine
In all instances commemorate your children
With persistence and vigor all combined.

Guide them with wisdom and experience
Though they ponder your help as wry
Remember their sarcastic expression as they
Grow from the caterpillar into a butterfly.

Wings will spread wide with searching
They’ll also fold and cringe away
In whatever moment life has of learning
All it’s messages are an instant cache.

Mothers praise your children often
Whether they be your daughter or a son
Because when they think they’ve grown
Your most arduous work has begun!


The End


copyright 2000