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…