The Gift
My shift was nearly over, I’d soon be on my way
The eastern sky would herald in, another Mother’s Day
I tuned into a talkback show, as the dawn did slowly creep
The switchboard seemed to be jam packed, with women who could not sleep
The subject seemed to focus on, strange gifts they had received
And some of these weird presents, just couldn’t be believed
Lawn mowers and spanner sets, might be the choice of some
But I find them inappropriate for that special mum
When it comes to showing gratitude, you may pay out great amounts
But when it’s all said and done, it’s the thought that really counts
For the smallest token from one’s heart, made with loving care
Is often the true reflection, of the love that you both share
Then her voice came on the airwaves, free of others gripes
With a soft and gentle accent, from the land of Stars and Stripes
I listened on intently, to the story that she weaved
As she told us of a special gift, that she had once received
A little pair of ear rings, shaped like two butterflies
The simple proof of her son’s love, brought tears to this mother’s eyes
He’d left the price tag on them and she felt a little sad
As she realised her five year old, had spent every cent he had
She wore them every Mother’s Day and you could always tell
When her son was in the limelight, she wore them then as well
She wore them when he went to war and she’d such bitter tears
When she got that dreaded call that every parent fears
Like his mates who went before him, he went with no regret
Cut down in Afghanistan, by a foe he’d never met
Though the world was at his feet, the day that he was born
When it comes to politics a soldier is just a pawn
In a flag draped casket, he came home from the fray
And she buried him at Arlington, where her nation’s heroes lay
She sat there broken hearted, feeling so bereft
Her memories and his butterflies, were all that she had left
Those tiny pair of ear rings are now worth more than gold
And this grown man was moved to tears by the story that she’d told
I drove home quietly thinking, with a heart that seemed like lead
Silently reflecting on every word she’d said
When I arrived I gazed upon the photos on the wall
Of my children in their uniforms, standing proud and tall
And I prayed to God in heaven, “Please grant me this one goal”
“That I may never have to pay this grieving mother’s toll”
By Tomas ‘Paddy’ Hamilton
18 May 2012
DIGITALLY ALTERED IMAGE: Original photo: Sunrise in Section 35 of Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Virginia. US Army photo by Elizabeth Fraser/Arlington National Cemetery.
Grieving mother digitally inserted by CONTACT.
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