poetry by Mercysmine - The Death Of Her Song

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The  Death  Of  Her  Song

She  loved  singing,  as  much  as  any  bird,
Though  she  didn't  have  the  greatest  voice,
That  one  had  ever  heard.

Still  her  songs  made  people  happy,
In  local  country  churches,
She  sang  at  many  a  funeral
And  weddings  quite  a  few.

She  sang  in  a  trio,  with  her  sons,
Sometimes  it  would  be  a  duet,
And  dreamed  of  someday  touring  the  states,
If  a  bus,  they  could  one  day  get.

She  worked  harder,  than  most  folks  ever  knew,
To  learn  every  word  by  heart,
And  she  tried  her  best,  to  always  sing  in  tune.

A  happier  mother,  there  just  could  not  be,
But  this  dream  that  she  was  dreaming,
Was  never  to  be  seen.

One  son  became  a  preacher,
And  a  finer  one,  you  could  not  find,
The  other  joined  a  gospel  band,
And  is  touring  coast  to  coast.

And  now  she  often  wonders,
Why  her  song  died  in  her  throat.

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