Mother and Beloved
Lord thank you for a Mother who loved me so,
And for a wife who willingly followed me
where ere I might go.
Whether my purse be empty of silver
and gold,
Through out our youth or old.
She may come from the land
where tulips pose,
But she carries a beauty beyond the rose.
If I had the wealth of the world
Dear wife in your path gentle clouds
I would hurl.
But until that day is true,
Will a poor mans humble love do?
poem by R.K. Hart
Added by Poetry Lover
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