What more...

We would watch the clouds

in the swaying green grass,

take me back to those days

where life was not crass.

Where we sat in the fields,

picking bright yellow weeds,

blowing bubbles of soap

to be caught in the breeze.

Dresses were sown

by a machine nearly forgotten--

and nicknames rich in humor,

like "Miss spoiled rotten!"

Those days with my Mother

I will never forget,

for she made them perfect

as perfect can get.

Thank you, Mama, for always being there for me. You are a strong, beautiful, expression of the Lords grace, and a levity in my life I need quite often! I love you, so much.