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I am in doubt that there be other

Thing as blessed to be as mother

Whether it’s a babe I’m holding

Or even if a child needs scolding

No matter what mood I express

They’re always hanging from me dress

Impish scamps or babbling scouse

Wing-ed angels, pesky louse

I love them all and they love me

The heavens high meant it to be

Yet I needs more than one day

To put things right and out my way

But every year it comes to pass

The work piles up and pokes me ass

This season is quite turbulent

No matter how good my intent

There’s too much that needs my attention

Help’s too scant to even mention

But do I cry and come undone?

I raise me glass at set of sun

Puts up me feet and close my eyes

Count minutes till again I rise

Although a mother’s world is full

At least I can’t complain it’s dull

And when they’re gathered at my side

I look upon my brood with pride

The first and last noel I sing

Is praise for all the joy kids bring

And though they turn my dark hair gray

I’d have this life no other way…

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