Poets United has a Mother's Day prompt. No surprises there.
Fit for Purpose
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn’t know what to do.
- Nursery Rhyme.
Where a social parasite accuses
a mother of being a social parasite.
Good morning, m’am, I’m from The Daily Bleating
We’d like to talk about welfare cheating;
We’ve come to give you our biased views
So we can report them on the evening news.
Now, kindly tell us which is worse—
Baby kittens or milking of the public purse?
It’s said that you didn’t know what to do
But with so many kids, and you have a few,
You must have known what would occur.
Do you have any idea who the fathers were?
No, wait, wait, don’t shut the door!
Come on, tell our viewers—are you planning more?
There you go, viewers, it’s a welfare rort,
Now, across to Chuck for the weather report.
Where the children talk
to their mother on Mother’s Day.
Mother, we’ve not ever said this before
But you’ll never model for Dior;
You are getting old and have grey hair,
And you wear the daggiest underwear.
Your hands are rough and worn and stained
Your face is wrinkled and fine veined,
You repeat yourself when you are talking
And you stoop a bit when you are walking.
But having said that, let us say this:
Nothing beats your hugs and kiss!
You worked all day to see us fed
And tucked us nightly into bed.
There we lay like warm sardines
Knowing that we’d had our greens.
You helped us with mathematical divisors
And taught us not to run with scissors.
You dressed and kissed our cuts and scratches,
You taught us not to play with matches.
You hugged us all, runner-up and winner,
But forbid us swimming after dinner.
You stored away every thing we’d paint,
And still have them, though somewhat faint.
At school events, you’d jump and holler
And made us feel a million dollars.
You taught us all to shun deception
And loved us all, without exception.
In a world that’s part false and part fickle
Mother, dear, you’re the genuine article.
We should tell you this much more than yearly,
Our darling mother, we love you dearly.
© J Cosmo Newbery 2013