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ABOUT MOTHERS

Angel Singing

WHAT DO WOMEN DO ALL DAY?

Every minute to and fro,
That's the way my hours go.
Take me here, bring me that,
Feed the dog, take out the cat.

Standing up, I eat my toast,
Drink my coffee, thaw the roast.
Empty garbage, make the bed,
Rush to church, then wash my head.

Sweep the kitchen, wax the floor,
Scrub the woodwork, clean the doors.
Scour the bathtub, then myself,
Vacuum carpets, straighten shelves.

Eat my sandwich on the run,
Now my afternoon's begun.
To the baseball game I go,
When will there be time to sew?

Meet the teacher, stop the fight,
See the dentist, fly the kite.
Help with homework, do the wash,
Iron clothes, put on the squash.

Shop for groceries, cash a check,
Fight the crowds, now I'm a wreck.
Dinner time it soon will be,
They ask, "What's for dinner?",
Wait and see.

Dirty dishes crowd the sink,
Next there's popcorn, then a drink.
Will they ever go to bed?
Will I ever get ahead?

"Bring me water." "Get the light."
Turn off the TV, lock the bike.
"Where's my pillow?" "Hear my prayers."
"Did you lock the door downstairs?"

At last in bed, my spouse and I,
Too tired to move, too weak to cry.
But as I doze, I hear him say.
"Just what do women do all day?"
Written by: Marshall H. Hart

Angel

WHAT MOMS REALLY PRAY AT NIGHT

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I'm pretty sure I'll lose my mind.

May I lie back not have to think,
On what they're stuffing down the sink.
Or who they're with, or where they're at,
And what they're doing to the cat.

I pray for time all to myself.
(Did something just fall off a shelf??)
To cuddle in my nice soft bed,
(Oh no, another goldfish--dead!!)

I want some silence, for goodness sake.
(Did I just hear a window break?)
I'd rather not cook and clean.
(Well heck, I've got the right to dream.)

Yes, now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep.
But as I look around I know,
I must have lost them long ago!!
Author: Unknown

Angel

FOR ONE WHO GIVES SO MUCH TO OTHERS
(THANKS MOM!!)

It's not the things that can be bought,
That are life's richest treasure.
It's just the little "heart gifts,"
That money cannot measure.

A cheerful smile, a friendly word,
A sympathetic nod.
Are priceless little treasures,
From the storehouse of our God.

They are the things that can't be bought,
With silver or with gold.
For thoughtfulness and kindness,
And love are never sold.

They are the priceless things in life,
For which no one can pay.
And the giver finds rich recompense,
In giving them away.

And who on earth gives more away,
And does more good for others,
Than understanding, kind and wise,
And selfless, loving Mothers.

Who ask no more than just the joy,
Of helping those they love.
To find in life the happiness,
That they are dreaming of.

Written by: Helen Steiner Rice

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The Longer I
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