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 Language of Enchantment



Chipped, unmatching dishes...
Clothes hung on a nail.
Material things were not her lot
But her lack did not prevail.

Bare essentials were the norm.
She never longed for treasures.
Happy with the little things...
By the simplest of life's pleasures.

Cracking walls...a leaking roof...
But she never did complain.
We'd walk around a room of pots
She'd set out to catch the rain.

Meals were not elaborate...
Just tasty country cooking.
We youngsters would sneak in the pot
When she wasn't looking.

Cleanliness was the utmost
She didn't like a mess.
And wrinkles were forbidden.
We ironed each shirt or dress.

Sprawled out on the wooden floor,
She'd join me in a game.
Playing jacks or pick up sticks
Or giving paper dolls a name.

Her health was never up to par
And the end came much too fast.
But she left me this inheritance
That I know will always last.

No money, land, or earthly goods...
She had none to leave behind.
But she sowed seeds I'm reaping now...
A love for God and all mankind.

So on this Mother's Day I write,
With love between each comma.
She's living in a mansion now,
But I still remember Mama.

(c)Doris Jacobs-Covington
May 10,2009
Proverbs 31:28,30,31
28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praiseth her.
30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain:
but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.
31 Give her of the fruit of her hands;
and let her own works praise her in the gates.


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