It’s my favorite ladies birthday today. My mom. She’s given me so much, and I am the most blessed to possess (cute rhyme, right?) her smile, her laugh and her name.
I wrote this poem for mom when I was in Grade 11. And it’s still, a decade later one of my personal fav’s. I love you, Mom. I hope your birthday is filled with friends, and love and laughter, and all things beautiful. Because you are simply the classiest and most beautiful woman on earth. You give when you’ve nothing left. And I am so inspired by you. I am beyond proud to call you my mom.
Love you always,
There is no doubt of its existence,
Of this admirable force which flames within her,
Perhaps, It is a strong fall wind,
For I watch as she moves effortlessly
Like a gentle snowflake through space-
Unlike a rose she’s never withered,
Oh, her beauty is unquestionable,
But even she bares marks,
For in her hands, I see the years.
I see the broomball sticks she’s gripped,
Diploma’s she’s carried,
Children she’s held,
Bathrooms she’s cleaned,
Buttons she’s sewn,
And blankets she’s crocheted.
I feel those same, warm hands
Running across my forehead,
Combing through my hair,
Tickling my sides.
I know beauty has left her hands marked
And for good reason
For she has beauty and she has substance.
Oh, she has beautiful hands.
She is solid without attempt-
A structure I’ve come to lean on,
A personality I’ve come to trust in,
She is beauty,
For, I know, She’ll never fail me.
It is through her life-
She has given life-
She is beauty
And she has instilled meaning.