We welcome another delightful poem, written by Thelma Harry.
My Mother’s Day
As I walk along the churchyard path, the daffodils sway to their merry dance;
All golden and beautiful like the sun, they seem to be saying the day has begun;
Then in the church the little ones come, all sitting and waiting to tell stories of their mum;
Then after this, my family appear, with presents of flowers, cards and general good cheer.
And then the saddest part has begun, with sad goodbyes and I’ll see you mum,
This wonderful day has slipped away, but only to start when Mothers day comes.