Sometimes I lie awake at night with memories of you.
The tears will come as I think back of things I failed to do.
The birthday cards I didn't send that meant so much to you.
The gifts of flowers never sent when you were feeling blue.
When Dad fell ill, and then passed on, you were so very brave
While in our heart, your world was lost and in a lonely grave.
When much in need, you went without, instead of telling me.
You suffered lonely by yourself, I was too blind to see.
The years sped on and trampled things. I never meant to be.
The visits I forgot to make, when you so needed me.
You looked so tired and frail one day
It gave me quite a fright.
But you just smiled at my concern, and said you were all right.
I never knew that you were ill
until the angels came.
No words express the grief I felt
or searing depths of shame.
I pray that in some boundless space, far from this tarnished land.
You will forgive what I have done and take me by the hand.
Joseph A. King
("Mom" was conceived and dedicated to honor all mothers. In the beginning, God bestowed on them many sacred gifts. The gifts of love patience, sympathy, loyalty, and trust
a beacon of light in the darkness
a gift of love and devotion so powerful that the shallow mind of man cannot comprehend. God bless those who have given their full measure of love and devotion, enriching our lives forever. May I express my feeling with this simple poem dedicated to Mom.)
