Hail oh mater(mother)(Ode)

Hail oh mater

Hail, hark, hear thee well oh mater of mine
Lend thine ears to this ode of thine
Doest thine countenance grow silver with age?
Mayhap each follicle discolored for a good deed thou hast done?
If thine silver were gold thou wouldst shine as the sun
Doest thine skin grow wrinkled with time?
Mayhap each wrinkle was earned by the guidance twas given?
Hail mater of mine
Bow down you dogs before this woman sublime
Doest thou not see this queen to four, mayhap more?
No kitchen wench this to scurry through the door
Quicken thine pace cur, to meet this woman, this mater of mine
Privileged to have known and loved thee, mater so fine
Two score and three hast thou put up with mine troubles in life
Many a day hast I laid down my strife
Ne'er once to be turned away from thine door
Hark all who will listen, this be mine mater, oh mater of mine

Grant
21h31
28.10.2008
Copyright �?�© 2008 Grant Mark Gilbert