Wednesday, October 06, 2004

A Boy's Mother

My mother she's so good to me,
Ef I was good as I could be,
I couldn't be as good - no, sir! -
Can't any boy be good as her!

She loves me when I'm glad er sad;
She loves me when I'm good er bad;
An', what's a funniest thing, she says
She loves me when she punishes.

I don't like her to punish me, -
That don't hurt, - but it hurts to see
Her cryin', - Nen I cry; an' nen
We both cry an' be good again.

She loves me when she cuts an' sews
My little cloak an' Sund'y clothes;
An' when my Pa comes home to tea,
She loves him most as much as me.

She laughs an' tells him all I said,
An' grabs me up an' pats my head;
An' I hug her, an' hug my Pa
An' love him purt' nigh as much as Ma.


The 'Hoosier Poet', James Whitcomb Riley.

Thanks Sue. I was not familiar with Mr. Riley, really.

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