The following poem was written by my grandmother, Luella Mae Bemiss Avery Epps, for her mother, Maud May Morgan Bemiss. I loved both of these women very much. I am posting the poem in their honor, and as a Mother's Day tribute. I sincerely hope no mother is lonely today. Happy Mother's Day!
Your hands may be wrinkled,
And calloused and hard,
As you smooth out the cares of the day,
But your touch is tender and loving and kind,
As I kneel by my bedside to pray.
Your dress may be faded,
And soiled a wee bit,
and a hole's covered up with a patch
of some other color, or some other kind;
You don't seem to mind they don't even match.
Your shoes are run over;
The soles are worn thru,
But your step falters not thru the day
As you walk and you work for
the ones that you love,
And only "more work" is your pay.
But your hair is so lovely,
Your smile is so sweet,
Your eyes beam with light
So I don't ever think of your
hands, dress and shoes;
I'm so proud, mother dear, you