Mommy, dear

Mommy, dear, why do you cry
at the toast
the eggs
the strawb’ry jam
(I may have spilled across your bed)?

Look, dear Mom, at this great card
I made in school
with all the cray’ns
(stuffed in my pack)
forgot, till now.

But-
Mommy, dear, I love you so!
through tears
a sniff
a strawb’ry hug;

you smile and say, “I know.”

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

©2023 Chel Owens

21 thoughts on “Mommy, dear

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s