My Mother came and sat near me.
I was reading a newspaper.
She had been lying down in her room, and came out to tell me something.
She had just remembered an old joke.
She began to say it. I was absorbed in my newspaper. I didn't listen.
Suddenly I remembered I had to do something and walked away, to my room.
She must have been hurt... My daughter came running to her and asked, Grandma, are you telling a story?
I heard her say, Yes, dear, shall I tell it to you?
Happy Mothers Day. NetChick sent me this way.
ReplyDeleteHappy Mother's Day--I like the poem, Thank God for children, they're often the most sensitive.
ReplyDelete