They’re good for bumps and good for lumps
They’re even good for dumps and grumps,
They’re good for stings of bumblebees
And barks from shinnying cherry trees.
For splinters, sunburns, “skeeter-bites,”
For injured feelings after fights,
And scratches, scratched while Tabby hisses —
There’s naught so pure, there’s naught so sure,
Indeed, they seem a heavenly cure,
For pounded fingers, and stubbed toes,
And all the long, long list of woes.
Yet did you ever think it queer
That while they’re fine for every fear
They’re just as fine with all the blisses —
~ Annie Badcomb Wheeler
A few other poems for Mother’s Day are here.
My tribute to my mom, written last year, is here. This is one of those days I most miss her.
Happy Mother’s Day!
(Graphic from Anne’s Place)