By Joe Cunningham
(I wrote this in my senior year of high school.)
There is a woman I have known,
Since long before my mem’ry,
Who’s walked with me on paths of life -
Where’er my legs would send me.
Whose soft, black hair and soft, white cheeks
My hands and lips knew well.
Whose friendly arms and loving heart
Became my favorite place to dwell.
She taught me of the living God,
And of his mother’s son.
She taught me how to love this man,
In each and everyone.
And when the cold winds blew their worst
And shadows filled the air,
Fear would never stand a chance
When she was standing there.
Her tender voice would comfort me,
Though skies would cry and thunder.
Her guiding hand was ever there,
Though my legs would often wander.
And when I’d travel darkened roads
And it seemed that hope was lost,
She always came to rescue me
No matter what the cost.
What loving words can give her due?
She loves me like no other.
What other word describes her thus?
In short – she is my Mother.