I awoke to the gift of poetry from my 9 year old. I thought I would share:
Ode to Mom
My mom is sweet
She makes bread with wheat.
She drives a red van
Mom is also a baseball fan.
Mom home schools us
But, she doesn’t ride a school bus.
She sometimes takes us shopping
We are wild, like a rabbit hopping.
Mom is so nice
She doesn’t like mice.
Mom is so kind
My love and her love bind.
She lives in Brentwood
When I fight she always understood.
I call myself lucky, as lucky can be
My mom is so special as special times three.
and then this one:
Another Ode to Mom
Mom loves to read
Most times she’s in the lead.
I love her a lot
Her heart is 1,000 times bigger than a dot.
She is really, really good
Her house has a chimney but no firewood.
If I could give her something, something I would
I hope to give her something if I could.
She sings like an angel
Which is really, really sweet
I love her a lot. And she cooks great meat.
Sometimes love is blind. And grace covers a multitude of relational sin. Amen. Amen again.
Happy Mother’s Day