Friday, September 4, 2009 @ 3:44 AM
A mother can be any size...or age,
But won't admit to being over thirty.
A mother has soft hands and smells good.
And doesn't like the kids being dirty,
Nor having her children sick,
Nor bad report cards nor muddy feet,
Nor temper tantrums, nor loud noise,
Nor kids that aren't neat.
A mother likes new dresses and a clean house,
Especially the loo,
She likes her children's kisses, an automatic washer,
Oh, and Dad, I suppose, too!
A mother can bake good cakes and desserts,
But spends a lot in the vegetable aisle.
A mother can kiss sad little faces,
And make them smile.
A mother is underpaid,
Does long hours and gets very little rest.
She worries too much about her children,
And wants, for them, the best.
She is the guardian angel of the family,
The queen bee, The tender caring hand.
And is loved, very much,
By me.
Thousands of stars in the night sky,
Thousands of stars in the night sky,
And shells on the shore together,
Hundreds of birds that go singing by,
Especially in sunny weather.
Millions of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Thousands of leaves in the fall,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one mother, that's all.
Happy Birthday,
To the One and Only,
Mummy. <3
I hearts you.
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