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Poem
Telling tales or stories is a favourable pasttime;
But using pictures to tell stories of past and present,
Yours remind me of days back in time,
Would not be all very  recent,
Last ones of grateful recline
To golden years so sublime.
You had an cheerful smile.

Mother, telling your picture stories is an action dramatized,
Which recaptured scenes that were prime,
In a form that's not traumatized,
For they were really  scenes to refine.
As they take us down Memory Lane with smiles.
Sometimes showing struggling miles,
After daddy died so young!

Reading stories that your pictures "tell",
Are what we say about you Mother dear,
Which give rise to connections they make so swell. 
 Stories about each picture about every year.
While we look at those pictures and intently so,
 For each one has knowledgeble facts to share more;
 God bless you dear Mother.

Pictures of events and happengings way back,
Resulting in many flash-backs.
As we children and grandchildren search through your albums
Of yesterday and "today" not glum.
O how you loved posing!
These scenes led to now closing
The last energetic scenic furlongs!

Various scenes depict for offspring to capture,
All avail with much lusture.
As Nurse Midwife, you freely responded to help and assist,
Even during the wee hours, goodwill would persist!
Perhaps nearly one thousand babies you delivered
In rural clinics, only calling a physician if cases get bewildered.
Some now have children of their own.

You smile in every picture so very relaxed,
Pictures of you at work at "play"
Satified and contented, pose not being taxed.
So many we could dearly say.
 Without these we may not reflect
On things we did together without neglect.
Such as time at Sunday School Outings.

Pictures of your babies at  "Carnation Contests"
Pictures of a group , nephew included, of seven
That expressed your prideful requests.
Children saying "cheese" teeth all even.
Later these pictures mature showin school-age
Children, born within a span of nine years,
Two years or less apart in some instances.

Then married pictures, young ones attending,
You wore Pink for girls and blue for boys;
An unwritten traditional rule.
Long white trains lined with blue tule.
After came pictures of the grandchildren
Paying less attention to us children.
Caring for them as tenderly as you did us.

Soon the album was of their graduations,
New Grads of various specialties in healthcare,
Giving gifts to them with much appreciation.
A service that you began for other's welfare.
You gave advice and and helped where you could;
Was of strong will and endeavored to mold
Helped your offspring, relatives, friends to battle.

At over eighty one still trusted your judgement,
A dear old soul with memories to forever remember, 
You could save bit by bit to make a payment.
Took lessons, then bought a car past 60 so tender!
Your Service to Society remains well known!
For you even challenged the unknown.
Twice you were able  begin from scratch like Job in our struggles.

What are you thinking now my mother?
Now its time for the offspring young and old,
You're now in the toughest of all others.
To remember your part you had done for their souls!   
Fifteen grandchildren and nine greatgrands.
During children each generation must have thought you something;
You gave each one of the seven, his or her own song to trust.
____________________________________________________________________

Definition of: Rhyme Royal

A type of poetry consisting of seven lines, usually in iambic pentameter. 
The rhyme scheme is a-b-a-b-b-c-c. In practice, the stanza can be constructed either as a tercet and two couplets (a-b-a, b-b, c-c) or a quatrain and a tercet (a-b-a-b, b-c-c). This allows for a good deal of variety, especially when the form is used for longer narrative poems and along with the couplet, it was the standard narrative metre in the late Middle Ages.
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