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Maeve Simons Poem
Working Mothers | By: Maeve Simons | | Category: Poem - Children Bookmark and Share
Working Mothers
Working mothers are in a class of their own.
Maintaining a house and paying off a loan.
Schedules to follow, deadlines to be met.
Doing it all to keep out of debt.
Children and bosses all demanding your time.
Type this ASAP! Please just one more nursery rhyme?
Driving to the sitter, practice and school.
Your new black suit is covered in drool.
Diapers to change, clothes to mend,
buttons to sew, meetings to attend.
Doctors, dentist, teacher visits galore,
ballet lessons, soccer games and you work until four!
Your desk is cluttered with pictures of the kids.
At home your cabinets are filled with sippy cup lids.
Scratches, bruises, cuts to heal,
lately mom’s cooking is a Happy Meal ®.
Boos-boos to kiss, big hugs goodnight,
to scare away monsters, we’ll leave on the light.
There are dishes to be washed, laundry to be done,
put them aside and have some fun.
When Friday comes and your work week ends,
visit grandparents, neighbors and friends.
Go to the library, park or zoo,
you will surely meet other moms just like you.
Read to your children, teach them right from wrong,
play with them, dance with them, sing their favorite song.
Children need love, discipline and praise.
(The boss needs to be reminded of that well-deserved raise.)
Enjoy your children now for jobs come and go.
One day they’re babies and the next you’ll know.
They’re off on their own thinking fondly of the past,
trying to make all their memories last.
The rewards are grand and it is so much fun
to see your son hit his first home run,
Seeing your daughter in a pink tu-tu,
hearing those words "I love you."
When is your job done? - Never they say,
Thank goodness! This working mom would dread that day!
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Copyright © Maeve Simons | Year Posted 2017
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Maeve Simons Poem
He was born to Joseph and Delia near Galway Bay,
He lived on a farm and there he would stay.
With Oliver, Kitty, Sean, Gertie and Annamae,
And with Maureen, Eugene, Eamon and PJ.
Two brothers died right after they were born,
But it was Vincent that died one fretful morn.
For Tony had heard the Banshee Wail,
If you're Irish you're sure to know the tale.
The years went by quickly and life was just dandy,
For Tony was strong and on the farm he was handy.
But his Auntie Annie called to say "I miss you dear",
Come to America sure there's nothing to fear.
You can hop on a boat as I once did,
You're growing up now and no longer a kid.
You'll no longer have to spend you're days plowing the land,
I will find you work at this hotel so grand.
Your brothers are here that's lucky for you,
And I'm working on Nan and Curley, too!
So off he went to spend the rest of his life,
And there he would meet his beautiful wife.
Together they have a lovely daughter and five fine sons,
They have several grand and great granddaughters and grandsons.
He would make you a pie for a good cup of tea,
Just make sure it didn't taste like "hare's pee".
He would tell stories that filled us all with delight,
Then played his accordion throughout the wee hours of night.
Throughout the years there's been laughter and tears,
But sadly we had to say goodbye after ninety-one years.
You were such a great man, Tony, we all know it's true,
We will miss you dearly and we will always love you.
Copyright © Maeve Simons | Year Posted 2017
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