💗 Tribute to my precious children all four of ‘em.
Updated: Oct 20, 2022
In August 1977, I gave up my job to become a fulltime mother. It is a decision I have never regretted. In my opinion there is no substitute for one’s mother. Parenting is a very special job. There are no set-down rules to be followed, only the example and values our own parents taught to us.
Shaping the parents of the next generation is an enormous responsibility. Being a parent is also a position of great power. I chose to use mine to attempt to nurture a belief in themselves, a hope for their future and a caring attitude.
I wrote these poems for my four children. It is a great honour to be their mother and have the care of them.
First Born
Twelve days late what shall I do?
Its approaching October twenty two,
A special delivery not the usual way,
Brought a bundle of joy to me that day.
A bonny Baby girl and a little blonde curl,
I was in awe, my head in a whirl,
Plump pink cheeks with her Dads little nose,
Lying there surrounded by teddies and bows.
Becoming a mother is a heavenly gain,
The feeling no other can ever explain,
Love of first born there is nothing to compare,
Plentiful riches for both of us to share,
She stands in her kitchen in her tall chef’s hat,
Creating a dish from this and that,
Tone goes so fast, she’s a young lady now,
But she’s still my number one ‘know how’.
To My Cherished Natalie
The Tiny One
Here we go again right on the button,
In this life you get nothin’ for nothin’,
Ready and willing prepared for the task,
I thought I was anyway, oh where’s that mask?
The clock went back one hour gained,
Outside that night, it rained and rained,
It seemed so long will I make it to the end?
Where’s mother nature, I thought she was my friend.
Out of the blue came a force from beyond,
This time it’s a girl, dark and tiny, not blonde,
Her cute little mouth and wee little hands,
Would melt the heart of the hardest man.
Darling little girl, I went all shivery,
She was my prize on my first delivery,
I held her so close I wouldn’t let her go,
We have a special bond only we can know.
She’s loving compassionate, caring and kind,
And doesn’t have a problem speaking her mind,
A pleasure to rear, easy no bother,
It’s a wonderful gift just being her mother.
To My Darling Simone
A Christmas Treasured
The middle of December I’m waiting on my third,
Will he come while we’re tucking into the bird?
Four days late he’s decided not to wait,
He bounced into the world at one thirty-eight.
Nine pounds seven ounces a healthy baby boy,
He filled my heart with gladness and joy,
The first male child for twenty-eight years,
Smiling family faces and merry Christmas cheers.
He’s a fine strapping lad, my first baby son,
Capturing the heart of everyone,
A shy little treasure that’s a clever as a fox,
In 1981 he was my best Christmas box.
To My Treasured Keith
My Little Door Opener
He arrived in haste in his own impulsive way,
The sun shone down on that January day,
Tears of relief, laughter, and joy,
Welcomed the birth of my new baby boy.
What more could I want, with my family complete,
Two daughters, two sons, four was neat,
But wait look again, I held him in my lap,
The doctor announced, “possible mental handicap”.
Shock, disbelief, anger, and shame,
It was difficult choosing an appropriate name,
I felt so inadequate God give me strength,
To take care of my son, for whatever the length.
He needed so much, the other children too,
My time was limited, my friends seemed so few,
Days filled with appointments, work programs galore,
This burden was so heavy, I had to implore.
My learning is slow, he taught me so much,
The meaning of loving, giving and touch,
At nine years old he is playful and wild,
My little door opener, sure he’s my special child.
To My Beloved Geoffrey
