My Mother

I knew a perfect lady,

She was sweet, and good and kind;

She had more of golden qualities

Than knights of old could find.

I recall how this sweet lady

Used to tuck me in my bed,

And I'd fall deep into dreamland,

With her kiss upon my head.

The lady of my poem,

Taught me all that's good and right;

She told a little boy of God,

And how to say his prayer at night.

Now this lady got some older,

But to me she was just the same;

Her motto still was kindness,

Still she had no wealth or fame.

She can no longer kiss my brow,

She no longer hears my prayers;

But she led a boy to manhood,

Up the old and timeworn stairs.

I still know this dear lady,

Her letters cheered me day by day,

They were all packed full of goodness,

God made her just that way.

I have described a lady,

To me there is no other,

Who had all those golden qualities,

I know - She was my Mother.