A Son's Tribute Poem by Clive McDonald

A debt of honor, I rightly owe,
To the shaper of, my fledgling soul,
Her hand with love, correction dealt,
Compassion lived, and sorrow felt,
My trials of pain, she ever bore,
My burdens heavy, to her loving Lord,
Her prayers unseen, though always known,
Bore my pressing wants, before his throne,
Her constant care, was for my heart,
Said, 'from this way, don't e're depart.'
I knew not how, to obey my God,
Except to follow, the steps she's trod,
Her hand was firm, but always true,
Her instruction felt, but always due,
He is a man, eternally bless'd,
Who's council in, his mother rests,
To confide my cares, to her listening ear,
Tis a treasure I hold, eternally dear,
And if it be, a true heart I bear,
It's only due, to her humble care,
'A gift you are, ' she'd always say,
'Remember the giver, all your days'