Mother's Day
Poached eggs hot out of the pan,
Served with spinach and yummy ham.
Topped off with tasty hollandaise,
A smile to my bright summer days.
Before the faithful Sunday's sun sets,
On the end of this special Mother's Day,
I thought I can make an honest bet.
And wonder why wondering isn't commonplace.
For daily good and bad walk the same beat,
Two by two the pair never dare race,
Knowing neither will fall and mark defeat.
Alas making wishes have never know disgrace,
Where the great sun must rise and fall.
Light and dark never occupy the same space.
So if the sun must ebb, that mighty fiery ball,
Maybe there are times we might admit to be small.
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