She couldn't understand, the lonely hours, the pain within. <br />She looked to find the answers, only silence then. <br />Endless hours stretched on, as she waited day by day. <br />With tears and lonely heart, she looked to God to pray. <br />Oh Mother dear sweet Mother, her eye sight grown so dim. <br />But she still hears the birds sing, it warms her heart within. <br />Her hands now are idle, her work on earth most done. <br />She sets quietly waiting, for the setting of the sun. <br />As she looked to heaven, she knew the Lord did hear. <br />A weary sweet old Mother, she helt her children dear. <br />It seemed she heard the laughter, of them from other days. <br />The echo from the past years, of her children at their play. <br />Now her brow was wrinkled, the years had took their toll. <br />Her shoulders now so bent, her steps had gotten slow. <br />She waited for the phone to ring, a knock upon the door. <br />But only silence greeted her, as it had the day before. <br />Her hands had been so busy, through the many years. <br />To teach and care and love, to wipe away the tears. <br />Now her hands were idle, her work on earth most done. <br />She sets quietly, waiting, for the setting of the sun.<br /><br />Claudine Cerra Blevins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mother-40/
