by Clara A Treat
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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a poem from the collective works of Clara A Treat
How your motherís heart must have bled
On that cold cruel dawn
When they brought your poor sonís body to you Ė
All bruised and bloody and torn.
And how your motherís heart must have ached
When you looked upon his dear face,
Knowing full well, how willingly,
He died to redeem this race.
And yet your thoughts must have backwards flown,
To the days when he was but a babe,
When you cradled and comforted each tiny hurt
And treasured each small step he made.
Dear Mother, our hearts must go out to you
On this the darkest of days,
When you thought that all of the joy you knew,
Would be quiet Ö and still Öfor always.
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|Reviewed by Michelle Mead
|I really enjoyed this-you've brought the sculpture to life- a keeper. Blessings, Michelle|
|Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
|Very passionately written and very heartfelt....
Be always safe,
|Reviewed by Kathy Armijo
|Our Mother's sadness runs deep for those who believe, and I do. You wrote this as only a Mother can who feels such torment. "Thank YOU!" for such a wonderful tribute to Her.
God bless you. Kathy