My mother is one I could never match
She has depth so much more than me
Ever steadfast in her life
Self sacrificing as any could be.
Patience, a virtue she wears like a crown
Humility graces her brow
Oft’ times I’ve caused her to shadow a frown
Thank God that was then…this is now.
Quiet in spirit, sure to possess
herself in great dignity
Rare is the time she cannot caress
the weight of eternity.
Her laughter like music,
Her song like a prayer,
She is one of a kind.
All of us grateful for the life she has led,
No lovelier one you could find.
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain
A virtuous woman fears God
If ever a scripture could mirror a name
She’s it…..She is not a facade.
September 15, 2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sweet tender honouring of your Mother Ginny, you do it with such meaning, it's beautiful. Thanks for posting it. Love Ernestine XXX