My Treasure

Her china cabinet was a prize to my mum
She polished and shined but her face, so glum

She shopped every day to 'get out the house'
She shuffled around, she mimicked a mouse

My dad was a rogue his temper would flare
My mother endured, submissive, her anger so rare

She cooked, she cleaned and put up with a lot
She had five kids and a husband for comfort, oh he was not!

She lay in her bed with only death to face
I sat with her and watched my Mum in this awful place

She died her death and has gone away
She left some poems she wrote in her dying bay

I read them at times again and again
I miss you Mum, I will try to be whatever your aim

I polish your photo and smile a hello
You live on in me oh that do I know