My Mother
I love you Mother for your quiet grace,
For that dear smile upon your kindly face,
For marks of toil upon each loving hand,
That worked for me ere I could understand;
For all time’s touches on your hair and brow,
For never were you quite so dear as now;
…
-Clara Simpson, “My Mother”
For that dear smile upon your kindly face,
For marks of toil upon each loving hand,
That worked for me ere I could understand;
For all time’s touches on your hair and brow,
For never were you quite so dear as now;
…
-Clara Simpson, “My Mother”