A Christmas Poem to Mother

"I don't need anything, my dear.
I've all I want on Earth.
I don't need gifts and gizmos
To prove you see my worth."

The words fall past unhearing ears
of those who love her so.
They know she doesn't need these things,
Yet shopping they do go.

Oh, why do children oft ignore
The pleas so much repeated?
Why do they bring yet another thing
To sit in the corner unheeded?

They know she knows they love her,
They know she knows they care.
Yet off to Wal-Mart trot the troops
To buy the things they share.

Oft she cries out "Do not spend!"
Knowing that the morrow
Will bring bills and tolls and pains
And from her they may borrow.

So why do children do this thing,
Their mother has forbidden?
Perhaps the reason lies inside,
A thing too often hidden.

Perhaps because she taught them well,
The things that matter true,
And pleasure for mother is very high
On their list of things to do...

So before you yell and scold and wail,
Pause a moment to reflect
The "why" of why these gifts appear.
It's easy to detect....

You see, Mom, we love you
More each passing year.
And while it's hard to show you
The day is finally here...

That in our little, tiny ways,
Outdated in this time
We really do respect the one
Who taught us reason and rhyme...

So open up the packages,
And know that when you're done,
You'll forgive our flights of fancy,
As we murmur "Merry Christmas, every one."

- Tami Langenback -

[ by: Tami Langenback (blacksheep@pokynet.com) -- {used with permission} ]


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