Lula Mae - Sweet Momma

Good morning, reader and I do hope it is that for you. I do thank you for allowing me to have my say about various subjects as they are placed upon my mind. You say you don't like poetry; I beg to differ with you. You just probably never had anyone to walk the lines of a poem with you. (Having said that, I want to walk with you through the lines of this poem. It is a tribute to my sainted Mother, who did all in her power to rear, teach and shield me.) But you know folks; she always tried to give me the best that she had; thus she gave me Jesus.

Momma, Momma, Momma! It's been
Nine days since your birthday
Though it's been nearly thirteen years
Since you went away.

I treasure the memories that I built with you
I cherish the values that you instilled in me
But most of all, I relish the love of Jesus
That you pushed and shoved and led me to.

Not a day goes by that I don't realize
How blessed that I am
When I think about the choice He made
In making you my Mam.

If I penned some words that touched some chord of remembrance in you, good! Then always do for your loving mother, if you are still blessed with such. Doing so will shield you against the time when she is no longer earthbound, but a spirit newly flown.

Good morning reader and
I do hope it is that for you
But for allowing me to speak my mind
I do thank you
You didn't have to do it
So, I thank you for being kind
And I pray that some words of wisdom
And of encouragement you will see
For listening to the creative muse
That has been placed inside of me.

If some of my words touched a
Chord of resonance within you
Then take heed to that resounding vibe
Fellowman and always follow through
And treasure the times with your mom,  against the day
That these times no longer are given you two. (1+1)

You see! You do like poetry... All I did was take the prose and work it into a poem for you. Yep!  I told you when I started this blog several years ago, that I was aiming to get some of you avowed poetry haters to, at least listen to it, and at best, to learn to love it. (Tee hee)
Be blessed!

My Mother, a priceless gift from Jesus
Jesus, the priceless gift from my Mother

Doing What I Can, While I Can
Alma Jones

Aside: The values in this poem that you might admire, they're not mine! They are my Mother's. Thank you and yes, she was a sweetheart because she taught me to envelope her values and her Jesus.