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She’s the one we could rely on

when things were sorely scarce,

to always find a way to get by

when it went from bad to worse.


She’s the one true matriarch,

the gel at the center of all,

never too far away from us;

never more than a call.


Sacrificing all she had,

for us, her flesh and blood,

always standing second place

to the family’s common good.


She’s the one who bore the pain

and then kept us safe and warm,

to make it through the cold and rain,

protecting us from harm.


She held our hands so tightly

through all the scary times;

our first days at nursery school,

stood in terrified lines.


And at the end of every day

when we'd really had enough,

she'd be stood at the door waiting

with a heart so full of love.


When illness struck

me down so hard;

laid up and oh, so low,


I had the comfort

of knowing she

would never let me go.


Yet on that long

and lonely night

so many years ago,


when deaths dark door

stood slightly ajar,

beckoning me to go,


my overriding memory;

much more than

my own fears,


was the lost and mournful sound

of her beseeching,

terrified tears.


As we go about our daily lives,

through times so thick and thin,

through pure and innocent laughter

and such pain from deep within.


From days of sunshine and flowers,

to wind and driving snow,

there is one thing sure and for certain;

one thing that we always know.


She is the bedrock of our lives

and the one above all others,

the one we can always turn to;

she’s our sweet and loving Mother.


Written by Darren Scanlon, May 2013.

Revised 4th August 2015.

©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.





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