My Mother Poem by Herbert Dry

Come walk with me my mother when I was a
little child
To a time of make believe and imagination
gone wild

You let me be who I wanted to be you just set back and
watched me with a smile
You knew I would soon grow weary and tired and
rest for awhile

With cocoa mixed with sugar packed in
my jaw
I was a tough cowboy meaner than
them all

With my six shooter hung low on
my hip
I reached for my cocoa mixed with sugar and took
another dip

And now my mother you are gone my six shooter hangs
on the wall
I have gotten slow these many years my
six shooter to draw

I thank you my mother for being my backup through
those early years
Knowing that you were watching my back took away
my fears