The Perfect Mother
Creates a nest and helps with shoe laces
Can pull out a pen and start to draw faces
Will tell stories on journeys or play endless I spy
Has a warm lap for comfort and tissues to wipe the tears dry
She has cats at her feet, on her bed and in her hair
And will find food in a hurry, Marmite sandwiches debonair
She laughs when she wants to cry to seem brave and strong
Wine always helps when the day seems so long
She is a daughter, a wife, a friend and an aunt
A woman who doesn’t believe in the words – ‘I can’t!’
She juggles her day and receives little thanks
Time to herself is limited, she just want to fill in the blanks
By dancing with feathers and singing on a star
Flesh naked and free, no need for her bra
But her unwashed hair so long and up tied
She knows for the next 18 years her desires denied