Dear Mum, I have not much to give you in the way
Of monetary value or clever sounding words to say
How much you mean to me and the sun kissed rays
Of patience; love and compassion you give out each day

For 3 score years and ten since the year of your birth
And somehow you still find a way to unearth
Depths in others and in yourself, you see their worth
Dust down their shelves and look beyond the dirt

Stained moments from their guilt-ridden past
Cobwebbed closets of hidden secrets that last
No longer when you begin peeling away the mask
Of layered smiles and platitudes, soon they cast

Aside their crumbling walls, made of sand and paper
Defenses which soon fall when you take the rapier
Of His Word to their hearts, their excuses soon taper
Off when they start to grasp it’s no self- indulgent caper

For, no shallowness exists in the deep well of your soul
More hallowed is the myst-erious gel in which you hold
Your family together and your friends whom you console
With your listening ear, open eyes and wisdom which you unfold

For my Mum’s 70th Birthday

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