Linda's Panegyric

Why Moms are so special.

Nineteen fifty-nine’s twenty-seventh first day

Told Louise and Don their sixth was on her way.

Into the world came the one gift God had

That could enlighten the lives of Ali, Ian, and Dad.

 

Thirty-five years distances your being from mine

Yet time is an illusion whose lies can’t confine

The oneness when our eternal souls combine,

And time’s wall becomes our mirror that has no age line.

 

Yet people always claim how mothers are best;

Our sources of life in whose arms we first rest.

But a mother is quite different from a Mom,

One being a title short-lived; the other a name embalmed.

 

mother taught in the classroom, Mom impressed from the start,

One is a box you fill in; the other a stamp on the heart.

Twenty-three years a mother you have been,

But a Mom you’ve lived since an infant green.

 

You see beauty when it grows dim to every eye,

Dignity and poise when appreciation you’re denied.

You’re a living immunization against any disease,

The only being who smiles at any upchuck or sneeze.

 

You’d hold my hand if with leprosy it was infested,

If it shook hands with the Devil, or across your face it molested.

Stronger is your love than your lungs or your brain,

It being the one object Death cannot chain.

 

To say ‘I love you’ covers not an inch of my feeling;

Words only materializing what the heart is always squealing.

Only know your love for us is our love for you,

That for the rest of our lives, no number of ‘Thank yous’ will match all you do.

 

Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wand’ring bark, whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. – “Sonnet 116,” William Shakespeare

The End

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