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My mom
July 24, 2012
Birds sing,
trees rustle,
dead silence,
no hustle.
It is quiet,
no fuss.
You can hear,
the bees buzz.
There goes an ant,
up that small hill.
Each step is heard,
so quiet, so still.
I watched the little ant.
Down swooped a bird.
It's little cry for help,
was all that could be heard.
The bird took,
the ant away.
I just sat there,
puzzled all day.
You are that bird,
I saw today.
The ant's my problems,
you took away.
Thank you, Thank you,
for all that you do!
Thanks for loving me,
and staying so true!
© Daniel H., Durham, NC
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