She is the light in the darkest of days

Her wings habour those seeking shelter from rain

She bears the strength of a thousand men

She could flatten mountains, then build them again

She walks with the grace of a flock of swans

Holy is the ground which she treads upon

She dances with angels, and loves everyone

Hers is a legacy to be never outdone

Her voice is an echo sent straight from God

She walks without fear, though her path’s one few have trod

She is braver than a king marching steadily to war

For she sings with the birds and, in their skies, soars

She’s the stock of legends, the same stuff as stars

Only made more lovely by each battle scar

A person to be loved and cherished beyond all others

You know who I speak of — who else, but a mother!


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