My Mammy

Who’s the one we call on
when all the chips are down?
My mammy!
Who babysits til she has fits
while we’re out on the town
My mammy!
Who wiped my nose
and rubbed my neck
and fed me tea
when I got sick
and thought she’d earned
a rest by heck
My mammy!
But now the grandkids
number seven
she thanks the lord
there’s not eleven
she hasn’t time
she wonders not
what stops her going
plum to pot
her pot has warn to a nub
keeping tabs on sis and bub
time hasn’t left her on the shelf
she hasn’t time left for herself
she doesn’t need to find a club
or spend her hours in a pub
she’d rather stay at home scrub
my Mammy
and when she gets her hair fixed fine
you’d never know she’s 59
My mammy
Happy Birthday and lots of love from Lucy,
your mean little kid!

~written by Lucille Falk Miller (c)