Her name is Lourdes
She was born of a Painter,
and the only child of my Grandmother
The Pride of Timoteo (My Grandfather)
the joy of the Guinto' (Family)
Yet the music of my life
is sang in an Alto (she sings in the Choir)
When she croons me to sleep in the Crib
She stays late to watch o'er little me
And feeds me personally
The nurses are well rested
While she toils at the Bottle
Surely, you can take my job, my skills n my money
but the Love of my life is my Mommy
Happy Mother's Day MomMY. Love you so...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem