Motherhood

 The joys of being a mother, summed up in this little poem.

Eight months I carried you.
Eight months of being unglued.
Here I sit, with the baby blue.
Yet through the woes I still love you.
All of what I say is true.

Through the coos and tears
Through the giggles and fears
Through the first steps and pain
Through the first words and shame

I shall be here for you, my son.
For I am your mother and you only have one.

© 2017-2021 By M Robbins
Edited 2021

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