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Sunday, 6 May 2012

Her labored fruit



Someone rang the bells of occasions 
And said mother's day is upon as again 
Graciously I thank thee 


For I am fruits of her labor 
The door way to this world, with hard push last push 
And the tap of milk that quenched my hungered thirst 


I sat watching my nephew and nice 
As they demanded their care and attention 
With baby calls and pulls, demanding more 


Asking for more, like Oliver, wanting more  
Then they are to be cuddled, plays before sleep 
To ask for more at wake, a King's servant call 


Someone rang the bells of occasions 
And said mother's day is upon as again 
Graciously I thank thee 


For I was no easy burden to carry 
Nick named as so
Sleep will be my only relentless stop 


I am fruits of her labor 
The door way to this world, with hard push  
And the tap of milk that quenched my hungered thirst 


Someone rang the bells of occasion  
And said mothers day is here again 
Graciously I thank thee 

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