Mother's Day

PRECIOUS MEMORIES Dark clouds are lined with silver So I am told But mine are far more precious For they are lined with gold

Dark clouds gathered The day you went away But it's been raining diamonds Ever since that day

Bright shining diamond memories Sparkling like my tears Of the many happy times We shared through the years

Memories like diamonds That will never rust Never fade nor tarnish And never turn to dust

Evergreen emerald memories Of your face that smiled Ruby red memories of your kind words To each and every child

Sapphire and turquoise memories Of our days by the sea Brilliant, dazzling jewels That always stay with me

Purple amethyst memories The color you loved best But each jewel of a memory Is as precious as the rest

The pearls of wisdom that you gave us We'll keep every strand And then we'll place them In our children's hand

I may not have as much As some others do But I'm richer by far because I had a mother like you

No matter what I'm offered With these jewels I'll never part I'll keep my treasure buried Deep within my heart

Mother’s Hands

There are many memories which I love to recall

But the two things most precious, most precious of all

Are my mother’s hands

Hands that held me as a baby

Feeding at her breast

Hands that rocked me gently

‘Till I took my rest

Her nails were never manicured

Or polished to a sheen

They were often broken

From all the work they’d seen

They were not a model’s hands

On some slick, glossy page

But were spotted and wrinkled

They showed the signs of age

Hands that worked so earnestly

But never asked for much

Should have been hard and calloused

Yet, I’ll always remember fondly

The softness of their touch

How could just two hands

Hold so much love

And still have room to care?

How could hands that were often empty

Still have much to share?

Although they were so busy

They’d stop to wipe my tears

Or run across my worried brow

And soothe away my fears

Through a veil of tears I looked down upon them

Clasped upon her breast

For the first and the last time, I beheld them

My mother’s hands at rest

So, Dear Lord, I beg you

When my time is nigh

Do not send your angels down

From their place on high

I do not need them

The way for me to show

Just let Mother take my hand in hers

And I will gladly go