Read Poems by Stacey Brown

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You Can Do This

Its five in the morning, nervous, I give mom a call,
there is no time to waste, she says, "get on the ball".
In a hospital room, with a touch of her hand,
she whispers, "you can do this, to be a mother is grand."

One last push, and i behold her face,
so much beauty, i try to embrace.
Ten little fingers and ten little toes,
I thank the good LORD, for her future he holds.

In a crowded auditorium, i'm gazing up at the stage,
they draw the curtains, a lovely ballerina, I quickly engage.
My eyes have never seen a more radiant sight, 
than my own little girl, eloquently dancing with might.

In the hospital room I craddle a bundle of joy,
fives years later, the LORD gave me a boy.
Ten little fingers, and ten little toes.
I thank the good LORD, for his future he holds.

Sitting in the bleachers, as the scorching sun beats down,
wiping my forehead, i desperately look all around.
All the boys look the same with helments, and uniforms tight,
I spot my son's number, THATS MY BOY!, I recite.

In a cold sterile hospital room, I now  sit by her side,
Mom you can do this, our baby will soon be a bride.
With a hint of a smile, and grace in her eyes,
I think she knew it was time for goodbyes.
Caressing her fingers and massaging her toes,
I thank the good LORD, for her future he holds.

With a red rose in my hand, a tear, and a smile,
the usher gallantly guides me down a flower filled aisle,
Today my sweet girl, becomes somebody's wife,
I pray for for their joy, and may love run a rife.

I stand at the curb as he gets on the bus,
holding back tears, i don't want to cause fuss.
I blow him a kiss, as the driver pulls away,
And into the armed forces, my son goes this day!

I enter the house, no children are home,
This must be it, empty nest syndrome!
I look to my husband for comfort this day,
bless his heart, he can't find words to convey.

I pick up the phone and hear my daughter cry, MOM!
He's coming too early, i fight to stay calm.
I pray; LORD, I want to be right by her side,
if that is not possible, get them through this, i cried.

Back at the hospital the most wonderful sight,
a dear little grandson, i cuddle real tight.
Holding on to my weary daughters hand,
I whisper, "my dear, TO BE A MOTHER IS GRAND!"

Written by Stacey Brown
Mothers Day 2018









Copyright © Stacey Brown | Year Posted 2018

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