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Gifts From Father

Like the well known country song says,
"My heart skips a beat."
On a lacy, green May morning,
can they keep up, my skipping feet?

The mailbox had cards in it,
telephone rang off the wall,
or vibrated in my pocket,
causing an inner-being ball.

Just let my thoughts go whirling,
the son who is living near,
putting feet on all those wishes,
taking us to dinner, with grandchild dear.

They were a gift to me in bundles,
that I waited for with joy.
My eager anticipation
brought me a precious girl or boy.

Inexperienced, I attempted,
with joined efforts of my spouse,
to teach them, feed them, love them,
as they messed up---picked up--the house.

Now, the morning goes a-whirling.
What dress shall I put on,
after inspiring devotion, for the dinner
planned for me by that dear son?

Though, "Ma Bell," I guess you are passe,
with their apps, they now convey,
to the happy ears and dancing heart:
can I rate it?--Mothers' Day

The treasures that they sent or brought,
now displayed in grand array,
eaten up or planted,
bless them, near or far away.

How can I fail to thank the Lord,
for the gifts he's sent my way?
blessed far beyond what I deserve:
Thanks for love, life, and Mothers' Day.

©05/14/2017 Carol Welch
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