Mother's Hats
My mother's hats were beautiful,
With feathers and flowers and such.
She cared for them so carefully,
Small hands must never touch.
She always wore a hat to town,
To church or to lady's tea.
None looked as lovely in a hat
As my mama did to me.
She perched it high upon the top
Of her beautiful auburn hair.
When she went strolling with my dad,
They made a handsome pair.
I never thought of modest Mother
As "Puttin on the Ritz".
Her hats were her one small vanity,
As Ritzy as it gets.
My mother's hats are hanging now,
Heirlooms on my bedroom wall.
I see them there and think of her,
The fairest of them all.
By: Joyce Johnson
8/8/15
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