The Prettiest Mother In the World

Her face is no longer smooth,
it is lined by time.
Even if she doesn't look the same,
she is still that dear mother of mine.
She has always given of herself to me,
nothing was I ever denied.
She laughed when I laughed,
she comforted me when I cried.
There is no one like her,
I don't think there will ever be.
No one means as much to me,
as she.
To me, it doesn't matter what she looks like,
I guess it is a matter of pride.
For the things that make her the most beautiful,
are the things she has inside.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A   Avatar
April 2, 2016 at 2:01 AM
a wonderful poem, Peggy. LINDA
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace