In a book on a shelf are memories of time and space,
In many books on many shelves are memories intertwined with lace,
That same hardcover of your being engulfs everyone on that shelf,
Every change ever the same wrapped in a blanket of wealth,
On this earth you did birth five beautiful childs,
On this earth are children of worth which gold and silver can't be searched,
In this home a mother does roam to see her children grow,
Little that she knew she was growing too a strength incomparable,
Without a man beside her she did cry inside her heart,
But strong was her favorite word,
She learned to deal with every meal,
A days mysteries she did steal.
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Lovely thoughts in this poem. Read mine - Mother Dear, Oh Mother Dear - Adeline