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.