An empty Purse
From when I was a little boy
I saw her anguish, heard her cry,
My Mother had a bittersweet life
naught but anger, naught but strife,
Though she never showed it, always so bold
with her empty purse but a heart full of gold.
She struggled every day to cope
but managed - never gave up hope,
Took care of us and loved us all
was there for us come rain or fall,
Never very different, always undersold
she had an empty purse, but a heart full of gold.
Fed us, clothed us, watched us all grow
if she was sad, it would never show,
Nursed us through measles, chicken pox too
ever so loving through and through
Her arms always outstretched - and ready to hold
she had an empty purse but a heart full of gold.
Went without food, made sure we all ate
sat at the table with an empty plate,
Kisses and hugs - sometimes harsh words
followed by cuddles soon afterwards
If someone gave her heartache, she'd come back tenfold
because she had an empty purse but a heart full of gold.
Now I have children of my own
they too have children who have grown
to love their nan over the years
she's wiped their bottoms wiped their tears,
Though my Mothers old and frail she'll never feel the cold
Because both her purse and her heart overflow with gold.